Egypt's Lotus
by mixedxsmile
Summary: Seto Kaiba goes to Egypt to discuss his vision from the Millenium Eye with Ischizu. Apparently there's a lot more than discussion going on between the two. Kaiba's decides that he must get rid of his weakness, while Ischizu falls further into depression.
1. Weakness

**Seven Deadly Sins**

_**Chapter One**: Inclinations_

_**Author**: Illuminescence_

**_Summary_**: _Seto takes a visit to Japan after some visions from the Millennium Eye. But it he gets more than be bargained for. Ischizu and Seto try and answer questions of their own fate, and their misplaced roles in society._

CHAPTER ONE – THE BEGINNING

Ischizu had crawled into bed, throwing her cream colored blankets over her head. She sighed; it would be another cool night. A fresh breeze had blown in, parting the maroon drapery. Unable to sleep, she adjusted the window. It never snowed in Egypt, but it did in Japan. How she remembered Japan so well, she was unsure. Knowing she would be unable to sleep until she checked on Marik, she strolled over to his room.

Marik was sprawled carelessly over his cot. Odion opposite from him was still awake. Ischizu swiftly moved to Marik's side and pulled the blankets over him that had been previously strewn aside.

"Is something troubling you, Ischizu?" Odion questioned with an emotionless expression. As of late, Ischizu had been depressed, wandering aimlessly into the kitchen, and often she would induce her crying. Marik had noticed as well, but it proved futile to squeeze anything out of his older sister. She was just as emotionless as someone that they had met on their adventures in Japan.

"Without the tauk, life seems unpredictable." Ischizu chuckled at her own choice of words. She really was helpless without the tauk. She had to continuously wonder whether her brother would be okay, whether things would turn out for the better. Before, she knew, and she knew so well that she didn't need to worry. Ischizu thought for a moment how everyone else on the planet seemed to do it.

"I see. I won't question you unless you willingly speak with us about it." Odion glanced over at Marik, who had tossed over on his side, softly murmuring in his sleep. Ischizu lingered at her door momentarily, wondering whether her depression was from her lack of external emotions or whether as of late, life was cruel.

She clumsily walked back to her room and flicked the switch off. Sitting on the foot of her bed, she thought. Japan, how she longed to be there. Egypt was her home, and she loved it here, but Japan was a distanced vacation. A vacation from all her work and her meaningless skirmishes. Slowly, her tanned fingers parted through her hair and unaffixed her jewelry, one by one. Laying her gold pieces on her dresser, she slipped underneath the dark covers. Ischizu imagined strong arms encircling her. None came, and Ischizu's gaze became downcast.

Love was foreign to her, in that sense. She had not found a man whom she trusted and let her thoughts escape with. She found relationships difficult and time-consuming. She nearly laughed at her thought there. It reminded her of a certain stoic someone in Japan. How she longed to be there again. Japan, her dreams, all of them! It seemed so far off. She sighed.

She tried not to cry. The breeze failed to come through the windows, and she was glad. It was cold enough in this world as it was. She knew not what plagued her unhappiness or why it prolonged as this. She had hoped the Pharaoh had found his way. Hoped.

She wished as well for the Priest. A shuddered sob escaped her as she envisaged a tall, lanky figure retreating. The figure turned its' head and stared at her through piercing, icy eyes. Running a hand through it's dark, chocolate hair, it turned, and it's trenchcoat flapped behind him. Gasping she induced her cries by crushing the pillow of her mouth. The pillow would often get wet, but she didn't mind. She wouldn't mind washing it over and over; what did it matter? She had done it so many times before.

The phone rang and she scrambled out of bed. Pressing the receiver near her ear, she felt destiny. Destiny, couldn't be explained, but she felt it sometimes.

"Hello, Ischizu?" At the sound of the deep, dark voice, she ground her bottom lip with her teeth. Not him. She wondered, often, whether his purpose was to destroy her spirit or her beliefs. He destroyed neither. She was as emotionless as he was. It was difficult to explain; their relationship worked one way. He would ask her for something, she would give it to him, and then she would sink into a light, blissful depression. How she wished for release.

"Hello, Seto." Pressing her fingers over the end where she would speak, she let out soft cry and crumpled to the floor. After her emotional outbreak, she lifted her finger from her end and cradled the phone near her shoulder.

"I'm coming to Egypt, immediately. I need to speak with you. Be at the airport at 3, your time." Seto managed to boss her around even when he wasn't here. It was simply amazing. She wondered, why she had chosen Seto to hold Obelisk back when the Battle City tournament raged on. Ischizu had chosen the World Champion to hold that card, but it was beyond that. Before she knew of his nature, she had believed him to be of a trusting persona. It was true that he was not, but it confused her to no extent. How could he be so cruel, and yet so kind, in the way that Mokuba would describe and defend him as? But it was true, she had given him hope.

"All right, Seto. Have a nice trip. I wish you well." Ischizu stated, and it was easy for her to believe she felt this way. Truly, she did have a heart. She often let it slip, every so often, that love was incapable of her. Marik would enter and reenter, asking whether she was all right, and she would claim that she was. Marik, ever doubtful, would leave her in peace, and she would continue mourning the day she was born.

"See you, then." He clipped, and she heard the dial tone soon after. No goodbye, no nothing. She wondered how this man got along with society as it was. Man? She meant boy. Being nearly four years younger than her, Seto was still a boy. A childish one, at that, arrogant and ruthless. But he never ceased to amaze her – a trip to Egypt? He never believed any of her truths regarding his ancient history that took place nearly 5,000 years ago.

She wondered, but she would await his arrival. Hurriedly rushing out of the room, she alerted Marik and Odion and they quickly packed up and headed straight to the Airport. Ischizu needed to know what was up, on such short notice, that Seto would come to Egypt.

Seto settled back into his chair, to ease his back. Mokuba's head was cradled in his lap, and a worried hand swept through his younger brother's strands. Mumbling, Mokuba buried deeper into his brother's lap and Seto rested his eyes. A gentle alertness always had become a trait of the Kaibas, and Seto did not leave his alertness as his eyelids began to slide over his eyes. He had left the Millenium Eye in his desk at work. Alerting Roland of this, he assigned his guard the duty of assuring its safety.

"Mm..Brother?" Mokuba's sugary voice floated towards Seto. Scooping him up, Seto placed Mokuba's body into his arms. The air hostess found this strange, but the elder Kaiba gave her a dirty look and sent her packing. Seto's cool sapphire eyes met caramel ones.

"Hn?" It was strange for Seto to be at a loss for words. Well, to Mokuba, it didn't seem so unusual. His brother liked quiet, and peace. It was the way the world should've worked. A world where Kaibas would fit right in. Mokuba's face was edged with tension.

"Can I get some souvenirs, when we get there? Or are we going to leave as soon as we can, like last time?" Mokuba evaded his Brother's gaze by clinging to his shirt and burying his face into it. Seto's body emanated heat, a heat which Mokuba had gone accustomed to in times of crisis. His last question seemed more like a disappointed statement than a question.

"It's not a vacation, Mokuba." He could feel his older brother's long, gentle fingers caress his cheek. The younger sibling shivered; the plane was unusually cold this time. Then, after a long time, he felt his older brother bend down and give him a dry kiss on his forehead. His brother's kisses were soft, and dry. Devoid of love, Seto had reconciled.

"You never let me do anything." He whined, and it was apparent that he was being childish. Seto's hands did not cease to caress his brother lovingly.

"What do you want me to do?" Kaiba's arm fastened under his younger sibling's knees and readjusted them to fit as Mokuba arose from his position. Several other passengers found the conversation interesting enough and listened in. Seto gave an old woman sitting across the aisle a glare. She turned away sheepishly.

"Let me take pictures, at least." Mokuba compromised. The older Kaiba was never interested in memories or the past. He didn't like keepsakes, photos, or scrapbooks. He found them useless, and unnecessary. Mokuba sighed faintly as he remembered his brother's words on a gloomy afternoon in the mansion.

"I live in the present, Mokuba. And nothing, not pictures, nor words or memories are of any interest to me. I build my future and don't dwell on the past." Kaiba had swiftly sat across from Mokuba, as they ate breakfast.

And Mokuba remembered, his defiant reply, to his elder's words. Mokuba remembered what Yugi had told his brother at the Battle City Tournament. His brother could never defeat Yugi as long as he had demons of the past in his heart. He had to accept the past. He had to _move_ on.

"But brother, we can never move forward if we do not accept our pasts. Our past is what helps us make the present. If we can't learn from our mistakes in the past, how can we stop from repeating them in the future?"

He sighed, remembering how angry Seto had become. He had slammed down his hand on the table and requested no further discussion on the matter. Mokuba's cereal bowl had jumped nearly a foot after this action, and Seto continued to glare. The older sibling had used a businesslike tone and manner. Whenever Seto used that tone, Mokuba knew he meant what he said. The younger sibling refused to divulge in the subject again.

"Fine, but remember, it's not a vacation." After this, Mokuba settled back into his brother's arms. His older brother was soft and warm, even though most called him incapable of kindness. This was false; Seto was incapable of love to anyone but his younger brother. Seto, had compromised Yugi with respect, but it was only to a certain extent.

"Okay," the younger sibling murmured as he fell gently into sleep. Seto's hand traveled from its original position under Mokuba's knees to his younger brother's chest. It was a gentle, rhythmic heartbeat. Bump. Bump. Seto's mind eased its tensed state to the lulling sound of his brother's vital signs.

"We've landed." A voice boomed over the PA intercom. Unbuckling his restrictive seatbelt, Seto rose with his brother still asleep in his arms. Walking out of the plane, he didn't bother with his luggage. There wasn't really anything he needed besides the things in his briefcase. Nudging doors open with his nose, Seto stepped out into the waiting lobby. He faintly saw a person approach him, an arm on one hip, and a mohagany colored dress floating swiftly behind. It was almost translucent, like net. He rose.

"This is no place to talk, Kaiba. We'll discuss whatever it is that you need to at my home." Ischizu gently said, and then nudged her brother's arm. Marik murmured a soft hello and shied behind Ischizu. Odion was nowhere to be seen.

"Whatever." Was the icy reply, and he side-stepped her to exit the airport. Ischizu managed a glare while Marik let out a breath of anxiety. The pair walked behind Seto as he neared the front gates.

The walked all the way to their beige family car, and Seto nearly snorted at the sight of it. He bet that this car was worth less than his doormat. Shrugging, he stepped into the passenger side, earning him a glare from Marik. Sulking, Marik sunk into the backseat as Ischizu readied the car. Mokuba had rearranged himself from his previous sleeping form to one that curled around his elder's body. Putting one hand behind Mokuba's head, Seto sat rigid in the seat.

"How far?" He asked, not wanting to go long distances in their pathetic excuse for a car. Ischizu started the engine and checked the rearview mirror to see her brother brushing a sheaf of blond hair away from his eyes.

"Not too far," she said vaguely, not wanting to anger him. Seto threw her an uninterested look and resigned himself to watching the window for the rest of the ride. Marik shifted uncomfortably in the back, feeling as if Kaiba had stolen his Sister's affections.

The ride was largely silent, and the only sound was the occasional murmur of Mokuba or the shuffle of Marik's jacket. Ischizu's eyes remained transfixed on the road save for one glance that she stole at Kaiba. He had leaned one arm on the edge of the car window, and the other wrapped protectively around his brother's waist. His eyes seemed alert, almost as if they were scanning the area. He didn't speak, but let out a gentle sigh that was nearly unheard. Licking her dry lips, Ischizu quickly returned her gaze to the road as she saw Kaiba's eyes begin to grow uninterested. She knew he'd turn his attention back to the front or to his left, so she didn't want to take the risk.

Kaiba rested his head against his brother's. He had felt as if someone was watching him, but refused to be paranoid. As he felt the car slow down, he recollected Mokuba in his arms. Marik's gaze wandered to the large difference between his and Kaiba's heights. Kaiba didn't notice. Ischizu turned the engine off and stepped out of the car. A breeze whipped violently past her, tossing some sand near her ankles. Smoothing out her dress, she slipped out her keys from her purse and walked swiftly to her home. Kaiba followed suit, and Marik trailed disappointedly behind.

Stepping inside, she let out a sigh of relief. Removing her shawl, she placed it in the closet. Marik laboriously treaded into his room, and a faint flopping sound was heard as he got some shut-eye. Ischizu glanced furtively at Kaiba, who was now taking off his trenchcoat. Laying his younger brother down onto the couch in the living room, Kaiba draped his trenchcoat as a makeshift blanket. Mokuba let out a contented sigh, and with this Kaiba bent over his brother, brushing aside his dark locks.

"Kaiba," Ischizu's voice slid from the kitchen to the livingroom like silk. Kaiba was nobody's dog, but he turned around to go to the kitchen anyway. It was a small squarish room with a square table in the middle. Warm dark orange and tan colors decorated the walls. Ischizu's slender frame stood near the stove, warming fresh coffee. He settled on the refrigerator as a rest, so he leaned against it, arms folded. He looked sideways at Ischizu, who tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear.

"So what did you need to discuss?" Ischizu asked plainly as she stirred the coffee with a stirring stick. Running a hand through his hair, Kaiba directed his eyesight to the window in front of him.

"Did the necklace ever voluntarily give you images or visions?" It was an absurd question coming from Kaiba, who refused to believe that he was the reincarnation of the priest Seth 5,000 years ago.

"What are you saying? Do you believe?" Ischizu found this rather intriguing. Pouring the coffee into two mugs, she placed them on coasters. She relocated them to the table, and gestured for him to sit down.

"Just answer the question." It was a simple command, really. Pouring milk into her coffee, she sighed, blowing a strand of her previously rebellious strand out of her eyes. Kaiba was not amused and refused to sit down. Picking up the mug, he took a sip.

"Yes. I had no control over the visions." Ischizu said, parting her lips to take a sip. Seto looked at her with feigned disinterest. She rested her slim frame against the back of the chair, placing her elbows on the table.

"Hn. Understood." Kaiba closed his eyes for a moment, putting a hand near his forehead. A sharp, dull ache had grown ever since he had been in his office. He remembered the Millenium Eye rolling out from the drawer. He had picked it up slowly, and an image of two Egyptian men talking had intruded his mind. One looked faintly like himself, the other was an exact replica of Yugi.

"We'll talk in the morning," she said concernedly, "besides, little ears are listening." Ischizu rose from the table, turning to the sink and letting the faucet run. She scrubbed the mug clean and placed it on a cup rack. Not knowing what to do with his mug, Kaiba extended his hand out and handed it to her awkwardly. Pressing her palms around the mug, she washed the mug and scrubbed her hands. Wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she sighed.

"Whatever." He opened the kitchen door, exposing Mokuba, who fell flat as soon as the door had opened. Mokuba smiled sheepishly up at his older brother. A smile tugged at the corner of Ischizu's lips. Kaiba gave his younger brother a stern look.

"Get to bed. Now." Was the reply to his younger brother's peeking. Ischizu watched as Kaiba herded the younger out, a scowl present on Mokuba's face.

Ischizu followed the two out of the kitchen, stifling a yawn with her arm. Kaiba readjusted the trenchcoat out of a sulking Mokuba.

"My brother's room is available for you, Kaiba." Ischizu compromised, hoping he would not erupt at her not having an extra guest bed or room for him. Instead, he gave her a look over his shoulder.

"It's fine. I don't plan on sleeping." She wondered if icicles formed on his very speech. With awe she was mesmerized as he slid his briefcase on to the table, away from Mokuba so that he would not awake. He clicked it open to let out his laptop onto the table. The screen flashed white momentarily, the KC logo present on the sticker that lined the laptop. He gave her an icy look.

"Get some sleep." Was all he said, as he began to type furiously on the laptop. Perhaps he was working on important documents. Ischizu left him to his work as she padded her way to her room. Clicking the light off on her way in, she plopped onto the bed. Her hair framed her face, skewing in all directions as she loosened her hair holders. In a few minutes, she was asleep. The faint sound of typing could be heard throughout the night.

CHAPTER TWO – WEAKNESS

Emerging from the shower, Ischizu held the towel tightly to her chest as she walked timidly to her bed. Walking over to her closet, she pulled out a sunny white summer dress. It was the same dress that her and Marik had fought over when she had bought it. She remembered it as if it had been yesterday.

Marik stood around in the store, his hands dug deep into his pockets. Ischizu looked around in awe at the clothing; Japanese stores had such pretty dresses. Marik had decided to tag along, and he wasn't enjoying it at all. His sister eyed a plain white summer dress. He sighed; it was a little above the ankles. Ischizu picked it up and placed it on her body; it fit perfectly. Marik disagreed.

"It's too short." Was all he could muster before Ischizu gave a sad look.

"I believe you're right." They had left the store that day without the dress, but his sister's eyes seemed a little downcast the entire day. At nightfall, he had snuck out and bought the dress. Placing it in her closet, she was surprised to find it the next morning. Marik managed a half-smile as she held it up to herself that morning and smiled.

Shrugging away the memory, she slipped into the white dress and sat on the bed, affixing her jewelry. Marik walked in as she was combing her hair.

"Good morning, sister. Kaiba is in the kitchen, and he looks a little annoyed." Marik reported, and yawned by stretching out his hands. Ischizu nodded, and arose from her bed and stepped out into the hallway where she heard an exchange of remarks.

"But Seto, we just came! You promised you wouldn't do it again. Last time we didn't even stay for a whole day!" A small voice piped up.

"We don't have time to be playing around." Was the cold, older voice. Ischizu shook her head in the hallway and stumbled clumsily into the kitchen.

"Good morning," she said, rubbing her eyes. Kaiba, who was positioned at the table scribbling something down on paper did not look up. Mokuba beamed at her.

"You look pretty, Ischizu." A soft rose-colored blush appeared on her cheeks as she ruffled the hair of the younger Kaiba.

"That's very kind of you," she murmured, as she edged around Seto. He didn't look up once.

"So what do you want, kid? Pancakes or waffles?" Marik flipped the frying pan, using his wrist more so than his hand. He smiled radiantly and Ischizu chuckled at his marvelous cooking. Mokuba's mouth watered while Kaiba remained glued to his laptop.

"Pancakes!" Mokuba decided, and Ischizu nodded agreeably. Marik whacked the pan onto the stove and began to cook in a hurry.

Kaiba finally closed his laptop and rubbed his temples. Ischizu glanced at him worriedly once in a while as she drank her orange juice. Mokuba ate extraneously, causing a chuckle from Marik who had whipped up delicious blueberry pancakes. Kaiba didn't touch his pancakes at all.

"It is only reasonable for a human being to be hungry." Ischizu said, gently looking in Kaiba's direction. He finally glanced at her for the first time since last night.

Without a word he rose from the table and resigned into the living room. Mokuba sipped his orange juice a little sadly and Marik stood awkwardly near the stove, frying more pancakes.

"He just hasn't been so well since last night. Big brother didn't sleep at all." Mokuba muttered, as he pushed his cup to the middle of the table. Ischizu looked at him, her eyes softening.

"Perhaps he's just tired. I should leave him alone, then." She rose from the table, and retired to the living room. Taking notice of his change of appearance, Ischizu sorted through some books in the bookshelf.

Lean-legged, Seto sat on the couch rigidly, one leg propped on top of the other. His dark black shirt that he wore usually under his trenchcoat was traded in for a crisp white collared shirt. Seto's leather pants were still the same. Mokuba trotted in and plopped his head down on his brother's lap.

"Please don't be mad at me," he muffled into his brother's starched shirt. Seto's gaze remained transfixed on the wall that happened to be very exciting to him.

"Say something." Mokuba begged, tugging at his brother's sleeve. Ischizu watched the scene painfully, wondering what had caused Seto to clam up suddenly.

"Something." Seto rose from the couch and clutched his forehead. Mokuba looked up worriedly at him.

"Seto, I think you should lie down. You didn't sleep last night." Mokuba said, holding his brother's arm now. Ischizu walked up to him, and made eye contact with him as she spoke.

"You will only be discrediting your health if you choose not to rest. Your body is only telling you that it needs sleep." Ischizu said, calmly. Seto looked up at her with cloudy eyes.

"I'm fine." He muttered, and nearly immediately, he collapsed into her arms. Ischizu grasped his head, pressing it to her chest. She sat on the floor now, one arm looped around his head and embedded in his hair, and the other clutching his arm.

"Big brother!" Mokuba whimpered, pressing his older brother's hand onto his chest. Marik appeared at the doorway, slightly shocked.

"He will be fine, Mokuba. He needs some sleep, that's all," Ischizu penetrated the silence that followed, "Marik, please help me get him to bed." Marik nodded, and helped Ischizu carry him into his room. The younger Kaiba walked concernedly behind.

Ischizu fluffed the pillow while holding Seto's head above it. Finally, she rested his head onto the soft pillow, and he let out soft sigh. His eyebrows had creased dangerously into angry ones, but she smoothed them out with her fingers. Mokuba sat near his side, clasping his brother's hand to his cheek now.

"Kid, he'll be fine. Sister will take care of him. Come on, there's work to be done." Marik nudged Mokuba to the door, but Mokuba gave one last look at his brother before he left. Ischizu swept away the bangs that hung before his eyes and secretively caressed his cheek.

"Seto." She murmured, softly. It was a gentle name, one that slipped off her tongue easily. She pressed her nose gently to his cheek, nuzzling it slightly. The very sight of him made her crumple inside; a weakness that spread from her stomach and contagiously leaked into the rest of her body. She could do away with her weakness if she let herself break the rules once in a while.

Her soft, vulnerable tender spot, inside of her, excited slightly as she whispered into his ear. Something blazed in her eyes, and her temptation pressed her to brush her tender lip against his cheek.

Disgusted with herself, she jerked her head back and reprimanded her self-control.

"So weak," she muttered, as she rose and flicked off the light to the room. She pulled the blankets around his near anorexic frame and left the room angrier at herself than she had been in a long time.

CHAPTER THREE – EGYPT'S LOTUS

He awoke abruptly, immediately putting a hand to his forehead. How long had he been out? It was his primary concern of the moment, and the second was where Mokuba was. He heard a faint melody coming from outside his room, and so he rose from the bed. His face was slightly flushed from jolting out of bed, so he went to the sink in the bathroom and scrubbed at it. Appearing out of the room, he put one hand to the wall and walked slowly forward. He heard voices from the other room and listened in.

"No, not like that, Mokuba! Like this! Move to the right, then to the left." Was a boyish voice. Seto strained to listen. A faint chuckle reached his ears.

"Okay, okay. Wait, right then left?" His younger brother's voice floated to his ears. Great. Now he could make his way to the living room, collect his brother, and go back to Japan. The heat of Egypt had caused him distress. Seto managed to stumble to the doorframe of the livingroom. Ischizu, who was seated at the table in the corner, looked up surprised. Mokuba and Marik who had been dancing in the middle of the room stopped to look at him.

"Hey, Seto. You feelin' better?" Mokuba piped up, and ran to him, hugging his waist. Seto looked down at him unexpectedly, placing a hand on top of his head.

"How long was I out?" He asked sternly, looking in Ischizu's direction. Ischizu arose, turning off the record player in the corner and facing him.

"Nearly four hours," she murmured, half-hoping he would see this as a good sign. Her gut instinct told her otherwise.

"We're going home." Seto blurted, and Mokuba instantly protested as he said this.

"We just came here! You promised!" Mokuba backed out of his arms angrily. Seto's gaze hardened at his brother's rebellious nature. He was tired. Dead tired, almost. He felt an incredible weight pushing him down and he could barely walk on his own.

"You and I haven't discussed what we needed to," Ischizu added matter-of-factly. Seto gazed towards her, finally giving her an understanding look. Her sunny white dress had been radiating an almost childish appearance to her. He'd been trying to avoid looking at her while she wore it.

"It doesn't need to be discussed. Nothing you tell me will be something I don't already know." He said, supporting his weight with the wall.

"Then why'd you come at all?" Ischizu asked, almost logically. He should've seen that one coming, he thought. Marik glanced at Mokuba who had stormed out of the room.

After a few moments of silence, Ischizu broke it once again.

"Fine, we'll talk now and get it over with." Ischizu rose from her position and side-stepped him; a near imitation of what he had done to her at the airport. Marik watched in amusement. Leading him to her room, she told him to sit down.

"All right, what was it that you wanted to say?" Her slim arms rested on her hips. She gazed at him coldly as he sat on the foot of her bed.

"I saw an image, when I held that eyepiece that Pegasus wore in Duelist Kingdom," he said tiredly, "It was an image of two men talking. One of them looked like Yuugi."

"That was the Pharaoh himself, 5,000 years ago. Was there something else? Did the other man look like _you_? I wouldn't be surprised." Ischizu deduced, her gaze softening at the mention of the Pharaoh. Seto remained wordless for a while. Her weakness grew as she felt guilty suddenly. She could feel it spreading to her hands, and she fidgeted nervously.

"You're getting married, aren't you?" He looked up at her, with a renewed interest.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" She murmured wistfully. She silently wished that before her marriage that he'd steal her away forever.

"No, I just saw that lotus flower on your desk the other day. I knew it held some significance, so I was researching it last night." He said, a little weakly. His hand shook as he raised it to his forehead; the dull, sporadic ache had returned. She sighed gently.

"Seto, I apologize for your headache. Would you like some medicine?" She leaned forward slightly.

"No, but come here." He motioned for her to come in front of him. She nodded, and stepped closer to him. His head leveled with her chest, and so he arose. It was then that she gasped as he held her tightly to him, his head buried into the soft recess of her neck. Her hands fidgeted nervously around his collar, and then one instinctively went into his hair. Her tender spot fluttered, and spread outwards from her stomach. Her hand trembled.

"Seto," she whimpered, "kiss me." And so he did, lifting her chin and tilting his head sideways to rendezvous with her mouth–

Seto gasped, rising from the bed. He touched his forehead, it was now cool. How long had he been asleep? Kaiba felt the blood rise to his cheeks, flushing slightly from his disgusting dream. He rose to the sink, washing his face when he realized he was in Ischizu's room. Suddenly alert, his eyes wandered to the mahogany desk in the corner. On the upper leftmost corner was a flower. On closer inspection, he found it to be a lotus. Immediately the dull ache in his forehead returned.

Getting up on his feet, he went to the doorframe when he heard small, light footsteps approaching. Making no attempt to go back to bed, he leaned his arm against the wall to support himself. Ischizu emerged from the hall, slightly surprised that he was able to get up. Her wine-colored lips gently parted to speak.

"I assume you are feeling better. Your brother went to the market with Marik an hour ago. He should be back soon." Ischizu said, gently raising a hand to her chest reflexively.

"I didn't say he could go anywhere. This is not a vacation." Seto limped out of the doorframe and headed into the living room. Ischizu gave him a cool gaze.

"He was getting restless here," Ischizu said, putting emphasis on the 'he'.

"Whatever." He sat down on the couch, putting one leg on top of another, vaguely a reminder of his position earlier before he had fainted.

"I'll make coffee." She said, a little warmly, and headed into the kitchen. Kaiba felt as if the whole scenario was similar to a child playing house. He happened to be the husband, Ischizu was the –

He swallowed hard, shrugging the obtrusive thought out of his mind. Seto put a hand to his forehead, realizing the ache had been relieved since he had come into the livingroom. Perhaps the heat was less invasive in this room. He heard the soft hum of the stove starting, and the gentle clatter of pots. He closed his eyes, annoyed at his younger brother, annoyed at Ischizu, and most of all himself.

Ischizu appeared at the doorway, two mugs in her hand. She sat on the floor as the tea table's height was appropriate when seated there. She pressed the cup to the table, nudging it in his direction. Ischizu sipped it slowly, and wondered why he hadn't touched it yet. Resting her elbows on the table, she closed her eyes. Warm, gentle liquid flooded her.

"I received that eye that Pegasus wore in Duelist Kingdom," Seto began, and she looked up at him unexpectedly. He sat on the floor now, across from her, the tea table representing the miles of emotional borders that weren't meant to be crossed.

"A vision, similar to the one in Battle City?" She had become good at this; she was not mocking him this time. Seto nodded, distantly avoiding her eyes.

"It had this man, who looked like Yuugi." Kaiba stated, and it sounded as if it was all he had to say. Ischizu's chest rose as she inhaled deeply, raising a finger to her claret lips.

"That reminds me- Yuugi and his friends, they came by, before, asking about that stone tablet that was in the museum earlier. They haven't called since and I think-" Suddenly her eyes widened, and she grasped the mug tightly.

"They went missing?" Seto asked, reading her thoughts. He leaned back, crossing his arms. It didn't make sense to him. He didn't care about Yuugi, or the mutt, or the friendship girl-

"I believe so, Kaiba. That vision may have been triggered by their disappearance!" Ischizu's lips ground underneath her teeth. Seto watched the small swirl of milk in his coffee begin to dissipate into nothingness.

"It doesn't have anything to do with the vision. Their disappearance is completely remote from it." Kaiba refused to believe her nonsense.

"I disagree. Kaiba, I think something happened to them when they went to visit that tablet." A worried look befell her heart shaped face.

"I don't care what happened to them," Seto began, his fingers letting go of the mug as it slipped onto the table. "I just want to get to the bottom of that vision."

"The stone tablet was relocated here, in Egypt. Perhaps we should visit it." Ischizu ignored his comment and propped her face up with her hands, looking wistfully at Kaiba, who refused to look at her.

"I was pretty sure it was in Japan." Kaiba said, and then it led him to another thought. "They obviously went to the museum, looking for it."

"I suppose so. But the one in Japan is a copy; reproduced for viewing purposes. The original one is located here, in Egypt." Ischizu said, fingering the neck of her dress.

"I've already seen it," Kaiba said, his hand now rubbing his starched collar.

"It wouldn't hurt to give it another look. But I don't believe we need to worry about it now. I can't come with you, at least not tomorrow." She said, rising to her feet and collecting the mugs.

"And to what reason?" He mused, nearly snorting. Kaiba sometimes wondered about her – so out of place in such a modern world.

"I have to get the car fixed." She said it as delicate as possible to keep Kaiba from laughing at her. With a sigh, she retreated to the kitchen to avoid the entourage of insults he could throw at her.

"I'll go after that, then." He said, trailing behind her. His height proved to be advantageous to him; she looked up at him to speak.

"I don't believe it's that easy. The rent is due tomorrow as well, and I have to ask for an advance on my pay." She smoothed out her dark brown dress from the front as she washed the dishes. A warm, depressing feel extended from her arms up to her shoulders suddenly.

"Financial issues?" He murmured, which was unlike him as he leaned forward over her shoulder to inspect her handiwork. She nodded as gently as she could. She dried the dishes with a clean hand towel and placed it on a neat dowel rod suspended by two appendages of wood. He licked his dry lips, his mind in turning into small knots.

"How much?" He questioned out loud, his body rigidly remaining straight as he stood behind her. She turned to face him, almost defiantly.

"I refuse to ask of your help, Kaiba." Ischizu leaned her elbows on the sink's edge.

"Answer the damn question." He demanded, causing her to flinch slightly backwards. Her eyes remained coolly set on his gaze.

"Two thousand dollars," she said a little weakly. He raised and eyebrow and leaned forward, his arms crossed.

"They won't give you a two thousand dollar advance." He said, sternly, almost as if her request was slightly childish. Ischizu shook her head, her gaze returning to the tiles on the floor.

"They said they'd give me five hundred early if I asked by the end of this week. Marik and Odion should pull in another thousand," she said, her hand trembling a little as she raised a hand to her forehead.

"That's still five hundred short." He said, matter-of-factly. Her head began to throb painfully, and she induced a whelp of pain.

"I know." She said, and walked past him, clutching her forehead. It hurt painfully, and he somehow saw the situation as linked towards Kaiba's arrival.

"Where are you going?" He demanded, as she slowly walked to her room. It was strange that she had fully avoided his entourage of questions, but more so that she looked like she was about to faint.

"Hn. I guess you need your rest." He said, and a little while afterwards, he left her sitting on her bed. She heard the clicking of the door and the voices of her brother and the younger Kaiba filling the livingroom. Ischizu lay down, her eyes fluttered shut – awaiting a new day.

CHAPTER THREE – ACCEPTANCE

The phone rang early the next morning when she had left her shower. Stumbling as she buttoned her blouse, she toppled onto the bed, clutching the phone.

"Hello?" Ischizu wondered who would be calling this early in the morning. It was unlike someone to be doing that, for all the people she knew.

"Hello. Are you Miss Ishtar?" The raspy voice on the other end questioned her identity.

"Yes, this is her." Ischizu answered bluntly as she buttoned the last few buttons on her crisp white shirt.

"I got the check today for the car, and it's a little much, but-" Ischizu's heart skipped a beat, her fingers fixing her collar froze mid-air.

"I was actually going today to make the payment, so I don't know what you're talking about," she said, a little confused as she hopped into her dark, pleated skirt.

"Miss Ishtar, someone came by earlier today, some guy who gave us your car. Then he bought a new one, under your name. The car was only worth twenty four thousand but..he gave us a check for half a million!" The man, who was Mr. Golds, owner of the car dealership in Cairo was incredulous.

"H-half a m-million? Why didn't you give him the check back?" Ischizu stumbled on her speech, in awe at the sheer amount of money that this _someone_ had. Her fingers twitched as she put on her necklace.

"I tried to talk to him about it, but he was really ticked off. Said he didn't have time to waste. The car should be delivered to your house pretty soon." Ischizu heard a faint click on the other end and clutched her chest.

_Half a million dollars?_ She hadn't seen that much money in her entire life! Only one person could have that vast amount of money – Kaiba. Ischizu bit her lip, half angry and half happy at him. _Said he didn't have time to waste._ That must mean he was coming back pretty soon. Ischizu stumbled on her own thoughts to the door and heard an engine near the front yard.

Looking out the front window she gasped. A red _sports_ car. She could feel tears begging to be unloaded, but she swallowed them back. A sports car! Ischizu shook her head; she didn't need one.

She saw Kaiba exit the car and slam the door shut. Looking back at the car, he locked it, and Mokuba hopped out of the passenger seat, beaming. They approached the front door and Ischizu raced to open it.

"Gee, that was fun, brother! We should do that more often." Mokuba happily interjected as Ischizu unlocked the door. Kaiba was silent until the door swung open and a pair of arms locked around his neck. Seto looked from behind her shoulder uncomfortably. He wasn't used to physical contact.

"Thank you," she said, happily as she hugged him. His body went rigid and stiff. He quickly removed her off of him and stepped away. Mokuba watched with wide eyes.

"Whatever. Remind me to fire that guy who works at the dealership." Kaiba sourly said, running a hand through his hair.

"Guess what, Ischizu?" Mokuba beamed, as he tugged on her sleeve. She looked down at him, half-hoping they hadn't bought her a private island.

"Brother and I paid off the rent for the next five years! Isn't that cool?" Mokuba said, with a gentle smile. Ischizu's eyes went wide and she clasped him tightly. She looked over Mokuba's forehead to see an annoyed Kaiba lean back into one of the kitchen chairs.

"T-thank you, but..I can't accept this." Ischizu said, her smile tugging into a slightly sadder expression. Kaiba looked at her boredly.

"Too late. Just don't expect Christmas presents for the next fifty years." Kaiba said, looking at her uninterestedly. Her lip began to quiver; the sheer kindness that poured of them –

She turned around immediately, her arm coming up to wipe something from her eyes. Mokuba tried to sneak a glance at her.

"Why are you crying, Ischizu?" He asked innocently, as he tried to grasp her arm. She wiped rigorously at the tears that began to appear near her eyes.

"Women cry for stupid reasons." Kaiba sarcastically commented, ignoring his brother's concern. He made no effort to get up from the table.

"I-I'm f-f-fine," she said, a little quietly, and sprinted to her room. Mokuba looked at Kaiba for guidance. Seto gave a small shrug, not sure of what caused her to behave so irrationally.


	2. Acceptance

**AN**:  
This story will be continued, with or without reviews. I'm doing this for the sake of the absence of trustshipping. Please review, and next time there will be a longer chapter. Love y'all. My chapters are separated into sub-chapters within. That's why today's update starts with chapter four instead of chapter two. Enjoy!

CHAPTER FOUR - ACCEPTANCE

"I-I'm f-f-fine," she said, a little quietly, and sprinted to her room. Mokuba looked at Kaiba for guidance. Seto gave a small shrug, not sure of what caused her to behave so irrationally.

Ischizu washed her face rigorously to get rid of her eyes that gave away the fact that she had been crying. Mokuba peeked inside the door, with a boyish smile.

"Ischizu? Brother bought breakfast for us, so why don't you come outside? Marik said he'd be coming back from the workshop soon." The little boy reassured her, and then poked his head out of the door. Ischizu chuckled, wiping away the tears that begged to be freed.

Drying her face with a hand towel, she emerged out of her room to slam into something hard. Stumbling backwards, she saw she had collided with Seto's chest. With an annoyed look, he spoke.

"Watch where you're going, Ischizu. Hurry up and get to the kitchen." He waited impatiently for her to get up and dust off her skirt. She straightened her collar and adjusted the alligator clip in her hair.

Both of them turned as they heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle revving up in the driveway. Mokuba's light footsteps could be heard going to the door and the faint click as the door swung open. Ischizu side-stepped Kaiba and rushed to the door.

Marik "tsked" at her skirt. It was barely ankle length. Bringing a hand up to cover her blush, she welcomed her brother into her arms. Mokuba watched the sibling affection that Ischizu showed for Marik momentarily before Seto cast a shadow on them as he came into the room.

"Hey Kaiba. I saw the car outside, it looked like this year's model-" Marik was interrupted by Seto who smirked.

"It is." He leaned against the refrigerator before Ischizu tucked a strand behind her hair nervously. Marik had not yet figured out that the car was bought for _her_. He'd be outraged if he found out. Mokuba momentarily ruined her life at that instant.

"Yeah, and it's for Ischizu, so she can drive to the museum in style!" Mokuba smiled boyishly and slid into the kitchen chair. Marik looked wildly from Ischizu, then to Kaiba whose smirk had not yet vanished, and then to Mokuba, who was hungrily consuming waffles from a stack.

"What!" He nearly grabbed his sister's arm, almost as if Seto had been luring her towards him. Of course, Kaiba did no such thing and had been looking with amusement at the predicament that Ischizu was in.

"Yeah, I could hardly believe it myself. I actually wanted a blue car." Mokuba continued, naively. Marik's eyes were the size of saucers. Ischizu wore a weak smile as Kaiba did her no assistance.

"Well, Seto went to the dealership today, and he gave them our car-" Ischizu began. Marik's voice had quickly given in to anger.

"I did no such thing. It was Mokuba's idea." Seto interjected into her story. Mokuba looked up from his pancakes, with a smile.

"Seto's just being modest. He actually told me that you deserved a car, Ischizu-" The younger Kaiba shut up as soon as he saw a icy warning glare from his brother.

"We'll have to return the car, then." Marik said, as calmly as he could. He sat down at the table and fidgeted out of anger.

"You can't. Your car's been junked." Kaiba said, as he folded his arms. Mokuba nodded in agreement, and then returned to his quick consummation of the pancakes. Sensing that her brother would blow up at this comment, she quickly apprehended the situation.

"Marik, we will discuss the issue of the car later. I have to go to work soon," Ischizu said, and Marik complied grudgingly. This morning Ischizu looked particularly stunning to Mokuba, because she had discarded her gold jewelry in exchange for bright, shiny silver. Her earrings glimmered in the morning light and a smooth, key shaped pendant hung from her neck.

"Aren't you hungry, brother?" Mokuba looked a little confused up at Seto. Shaking his head, Kaiba retreated to the livingroom, as he had done yesterday. Ischizu decided to spoon feed him if he was going to be this stubborn. Marik watched embarrassedly as his sister carried a plate of pancakes into the living room. Mokuba stifled a laugh.

"Seto, you must eat this morning. If not, you will feel weak later in the day, and I do not want today to be a repetition of yesterday." She deduced, and then she sat next to him, balancing the plate in her lap.

"You must be deaf, because I already said I wasn't hungry." Kaiba said, annoyed at her intrusion of his space. He heard the sounds of a fork cutting up the waffle into smaller pieces.

"If you wish to come with me to the exhibit, you will have to eat first. Don't be a child," Ischizu added hastily, as she brought the fork up to his mouth. Seto edged away from the fork.

"I will be coming to see the exhibit, regardless, so you have no leverage whatsoever. And I am not a child." He had previously tossed off his trench coat to reveal a near skintight, dark shirt.

"You are acting like one," she said, "No wonder you are so thin." Ischizu leaned forward to push the fork near his mouth, and forced it in. He bit off the piece of waffle and pulled back his head, swallowing it immediately. Seto licked his bottom lip, and this did not go unnoticed by Ischizu, who had found him to be quite interesting by this point.

"I'm going. This is a waste of time." Kaiba said, as he rose up from couch. Ischizu sighed, setting the plate on the table.

"Change first. You will only attract attention which will therefore detract from our conversation." She said, and gestured toward the hall. "Come."

"Whatever." He followed her, half impatient and half angry. Seto wanted to go to the exhibit- he wanted to go NOW. Mokuba had scampered up from the kitchen table and followed them into Marik's room.

"Hey, let me pick what you wear!" Mokuba said happily, as he slid on top of the bed. Ischizu watched in half amusement as he picked up a white sweatshirt.

"No." Seto said forcibly, and he tossed the sweatshirt out of Mokuba's hands. Mokuba shrugged his shoulders and then went to the closet.

"Ischizu, you wanna help?" With this, Ischizu went to the closet, with an eager younger Kaiba at her side. She slid out a silk dark blue shirt, and Kaiba massaged his forehead at the sight of it. With a sigh, she placed it back. Mokuba took out a pair of cargoes, which Kaiba agreed to under much pressure of his brother's eyes.

Ischizu shyly took out a dark tanktop, similar to the one that the Pharaoh had worn in Battle City.

"How about this?" She held it up to Seto's chest, avoiding his cold eyes. It was a perfect fit; who knew her brother's clothes could fit Kaiba so well?

"It looks nice, but I think this is better." Mokuba tossed his brother a white, collared button up shirt. Ischizu noticed the similarity between her shirt and his and chuckled slightly.

"May I ask what is so amusing, Ischizu?" He growled as he slid out of his shirt. Ischizu glanced at his lean, muscular body. She wasn't aware that playing Duel Monsters could make one stronger physically. She could see the defined outlines of each muscle, and then she stole a look of his jaunty shoulder blades, that stuck out further than they normally should. Last, Ischizu caught sight of his thin waist and lanky, muscled arms. Something fluttered inside of her.

"It isn't nice to stare." Seto gave her a glare, and then pressed the shirt on his shoulders. The thin card-shaped locket was the only thing on him until that shirt. Ischizu watched as he buttoned up the shirt, locking her view of his body. Mentally, she reprimanded her self for being so careless and weak. Seto's fingers quickly did the third to last button, leaving the first two buttons open to Mokuba's suggestion.

"Okay, let's go!" Mokuba said, as he plopped off the bed onto the floor in a mess of dark hair. Standing up, he brushed off his shirt and smiled up at his brother.

"You're not going." He said sternly, giving Mokuba a look that he often gave to his business associates. The younger Kaiba's shoulders slunk in disappointment.

"That's not fair!" Mokuba blurted, his hands on his hips now. Ischizu chuckled at the sight. Kaiba kneaded his forehead because of the growing headache.

"Fine, fine." With a quick massage of his temples, Seto strode out of the room, tossing on his dark brown jacket. Ischizu followed closely behind, placing a shawl around her shoulders. Mokuba tagged alongside Seto, buttoning up his coat while walking. The front door was open in a few minutes, and Ischizu waved goodbye to her brother.

"I can't wait 'til I'm old enough to drive," Mokuba said as he beamed up at Ischizu, his smile radiating his happiness. Ischizu caught sight of Kaiba's icy, deprecating look.

"You're never going to drive. That's what a chauffeur is for." He said logically, and then added, "Besides, I've seen you play your games and you always crash into other cars."

Mokuba laughed at his brother's irrational logic, and slipped his small hand into Seto's long one. Palming his brother's soft hand, Seto opened the car door. Awkwardly, he turned towards his brother.

"In the back," he stated, and then wiped his hand on his cargoes almost as if he was nervous. He turned to Ischizu, and said, "Get in the front."

She complied, and sat in the car, _her_ car. It was bright, shining in its red glory. The leather seats were especially comfortable, and she rested her head back into the seat. Ischizu fumbled with the seatbelt a little bit, sliding it smoothly into its lock. Seto checked the rearview mirror to see Mokuba safely buckled up. Then, a sideways glance towards Ischizu. To her surprise, he leaned his lanky body to hover over her lap, and fumbled with something on the side.

"You forgot your lap belt," He said, as his hands were moistening considerably. A gentle, near invisible blush appeared on her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said politely, and his body returned to its original position in the driver's seat. Sliding his seatbelt into the proper locks, he gripped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles a deathly white.

"Seto, your glasses," Mokuba piped in, and handed him his driving glasses which were elaborately placed in the backseat. Nodding, he donned the clear, non-framed glasses.

"Don't lose control," Mokuba said, gently, and then placed a kiss on his brother's shoulder. Seto smirked, regaining his rigid composure. Ischizu assumed that there was something that she didn't know about; either that or she was just paranoid.

Suddenly, with a jolt, the car sped down the rickety road at nearly seventy miles an hour. The car swerved around other cars, breaking several laws and traffic lights. Mokuba clutched his seatbelt, and then started laughing. Ischizu had never witnessed such careless driving in her entire life. And it wasn't so much as careless, but almost as if it didn't care whether someone got in the way or not.

The car lurched to a stop in front of the museum several minutes later, and Ischizu turned to Seto, who was busy unbuckling his seatbelt.

Without a word, she shakily removed her seatbelt, and pushed open the door only to find her legs wobbly and shaky.

"You'll be okay in a minute. My legs always feel like jelly after Seto drives, too." Mokuba pipes in, pointing at his shaky legs. Kaiba seemed to be the only one who walked normally. Striding in front of them, he folded his glasses, hanging them in the opening of his shirt.

"Let's go before the idiotic photographers get here." Kaiba said, climbing the steps of the museum. Ischizu followed, her skirt depreciating her speed. Mokuba hopped from one step to another, and then turning around to check if anyone was looking.

"Photographers?" Ischizu questioned aloud, peering into Kaiba's face, whom she hadn't gotten a good look at since she had been at home. Mokuba explained this for her.

"Being a teenage billionaire can attract some photographers. They follow us almost _everywhere_." Mokuba understated, smiling up at a confused Ischizu.

"I suppose," she almost chuckled, and ruffled the younger Kaiba's hair. Stepping into the museum, she stayed closely next to Seto. Mokuba watched the two of them, standing side by side, with him in the middle, look similar to –

"The exhibit's on the second floor," Ischizu added, "and I am expected to check in there as well." Seto ignored her comment and located the stairs. They made their way up to the second floor to be greeted by sporadic flashes of light.

Photographers had lined up near the stairwell, never ceasing to take pictures. Mokuba blinked to keep the spots from appearing in his eyes, and Ischizu ignored them calmly. One reporter, with notepad in hand, stepped in front of them.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kaiba, but what brings you to Egypt? I'm a reporter for the Japanese news, so if you have a few minutes-" The man was dismissed abruptly as Seto sidestepped him and ignored his request. Mokuba smirked at his brother's grandeur way of handling situations.

"Hey Seto, how about I give these guys a word? I mean, they have jobs too!" Mokuba said, humanitarian-like. Folding his hands to his chest, Seto spoke.

"Just don't say anything I wouldn't." Seto calmly went through the doors and then addressed the crowed of photographers and reporters.

"If you want a quote, speak with my younger brother. He is the vice-president of Kaiba Corporations, after all." With a swift, deft move, he had vanished out of sight, along with Ischizu. Mokuba beamed, answering their questions.

"So, who was that woman walking with Mr. Kaiba there?" A woman said, busily jotting down what Mokuba said. With quick thinking, Mokuba responded.

"Unless it is company related, I have no authorization to discuss that information with you," he said maturely, running a hand through his hair. The woman's jaw nearly dropped – _he_ was just a kid!

On the other side of the stairwell, Ischizu and Seto had ascended the stairs. At this, Seto located a map to the right of the hallway. With his finger, he secured a route to the Egyptian exhibit.

"He is very mature for his age," Ischizu chatted, trying busily to avoid the larger issue at hand. Of course, she had heard that woman's question as she was pulled quickly away by Seto on the other side of the door.

"I wouldn't expect any less," Seto said, acutely. Her skirt rustled softly, the crinkled crepe swishing in the quiet museum.

Outside, Mokuba dealt with the pestering questions of the reporters and journalists.

"Is it true that you have funded Duke Devlin's work in Dungeon Dice monsters?" The journalist busily licked his pen and set it down to paper.

Mokuba sighed. How did these people know every minute detail of their lives? He had persuaded Seto to fund Duke's development on a new game – Dungeon Dice Monsters, D3. The new game would incorporate elements of role playing along with the traditional aspects of Dungeon Dice Monsters.

"Our business relations with Mr. Devlin were to fund his work on a new development. The development is to have some link with Dungeon Dice Monsters. If you have questions regarding the development, I suggest you speak with Mr. Devlin himself," Mokuba said tiredly, in his business tone. He faintly heard a beep, and he stepped away to the side to receive the call.

"Mokuba, give your last statements and head up here. I don't want them to barrage you with ridiculous questions." Kaiba said quickly in the cellphone.

"All right, Brother." He clicked the cellphone off. He turned towards the reporters.

"Any last questions? My brother requests me to meet with him soon." He said, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Sir, is it true that you have had a relationship with young college student Rebecca Hawkins?" The question immediately disgruntled him. _How_ had they found out?

"Japanese reporter Toichi has reported a picture in his archive of you and Ms. Hawkins at a park together. Are you and her in any sort of relationship?" Again, a bothered question. Taking a deep breath, he answered.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you, although my relationship with Ms. Hawkins remains a business one." Mokuba sighed and waved away the reporters.

"If you wish to have any more statements, leave a comment at the reference desk at Kaiba Corporations, or reserve some time with my brother's secretary." He turned abruptly away and rushed up the stairs, all the while dialing Rebecca's number.

"Hello?" Mokuba spoke into the phone, as he walked up the stairs.

"Hey, Mokuba. How are ya?" Rebecca said on the other end. Mokuba sighed a breath of relief; last time her grandfather had picked up and he had stayed to question Mokuba for at least half an hour.

"I'm good. Listen, reporters are going to write a stupid article about our meeting at the park a few weeks ago. Just ignore it. I told them that our relationship was business only." Mokuba said hurriedly, stepping through the doors.

"It's okay, Mokie. Oh yeah – tell your brother I got a new security system prevention system if he wants it." Rebecca chimed, her voice full of sugar.

"Are you still coming on Friday night for dinner?" Mokuba said nervously, busily rubbing his hands against the sides of his jeans. Rebecca had become a close friend of his, but nothing more. He enjoyed her companionship, and Seto had approved of this friendly relationship after she had provided him with several new security upgrades.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mokie. I gotta go now – Gramps is getting bothersome. Talk to you later! Bye!" He heard a faint click on the other end. A smile appeared on his face, as he walked through the doors to see Ischizu and Seto standing side by side, talking softly. Most of the talking was done by Ischizu, and Seto nodded.

"Hey, Seto, Rebecca says she's still on for Friday," He beamed happily up at the two of them. Something of a dark tense atmosphere hung between Ischizu and Seto, and his brother turned around to him.

"Sounds good," Seto said, his hands in his pockets. Seto glanced at Ischizu momentarily before returning his gaze at him.

"Contact Roland, and tell him to increase security around the parameters." Seto said, and then turned to face Ischizu.

"Why?" Mokuba asked, his face donned a puzzled look. Ischizu calmly held his shoulder, and spoke.

"It isn't too important, but can you?" Her often stoic impression softened into a motherly one. Ischizu's cool fingertips met with his cheek, and ran gently against it.

"S-sure," He murmured, stepping off to the side to make an important call. Seto's gaze hardened, his hand reaching up to the glass to touch it, almost as if-

Ischizu walked over to the newsstand in the corner, which she had been throwing glances during their entire conversation. Picking up the first magazine, she read a sub-heading in the corner. It read, "Teen Billioniare on anti-depressants? Full story on page 3." She flipped over to the third page, to read a short article.

"CEO of Kaiba Corporations, Seto Kaiba, has been reported to have used anti-depressants. Neighborhood psychologist says that a stressed lifestyle such as Mr. Kaiba's is not too common with those linked with depression. Another psychoanalyst states that eighteen year old billionaire has led a workaholic lifestyle, dropping out of his community highschool to be self-taught. "He's become a social recluse," says one teenager that attended his community highschool.

Others say that a similar teenage entrepreneur, Duke Devlin, does not display such qualities that Mr. Kaiba does. "He's been in the business longer," Mr. Devlin said, "and he's become successful too. But I don't believe he would resort to anti-depressants; it doesn't sound like him at all." Reporters say that Mr. Kaiba's frequent use of said anti-depressants-"

Seto snatched it from her, tossing it aside and giving her a stern look.

"Such blatant lies," He muttered, and sat down on the bench next to the newsstand. Ischizu's look softened, and she sat next to him on the bench.

"I'm not surprised, Brother. But at least Duke stepped in and said something about it." Mokuba happily walked up to them, in his hand a copy of what Ischizu had been reading.

"I suppose you are friends?" Ischizu asked Kaiba gently, hoping not to anger Seto in the process.

"Of course he is. He bought me ice-cream and took me to an amusement park once. And he plays Dungeon Dice Monsters against me in his free time," Mokuba said, looking up at Seto for support. None came.

"He just wants the financial assistance from Kaiba Corp. I'm not surprised." Seto got up, and turned around.

"Let's go."

Ischizu rose, quietly. This background issue of Seto's usage of anti-depressants had not alarmed her- but it clued her in on something, _something_ that was going on. She wasn't sure of it, but she would be able to pinpoint it later on if she could. She walked alongside Mokuba, descending the stairs. As soon as Kaiba had rushed out of the stairwell, and out of earshot, Mokuba gave her some interesting information.

"You know, some people say my brother doesn't have many friends. But those people are wrong, and there's proof too. Duke didn't say that just to get money from us. He's not like that at all. He's the closest person Seto has to a friend, and Yuugi has always been there too." Mokuba piped in, almost sadly. Ischizu held his hand into hers, the child-like yet mature logic of Mokuba's had alerted her to something else, that had been bothering her since Kaiba had come here.

"What about me?" She said, curiously, as the descended the stairs.

"You're different," Mokuba said, choosing his words carefully to not offend her, but to express his thought clearly.

"Different..?" She mused, and they stepped outside to the main lobby. Seto had leaned against the reference desk, staring distantly into the horizon.

"I don't know how to explain it, but Seto's different with you, more different than when he is with Duke, but I guess it's because you're older than he is." Mokuba deduced, and sprinted towards his brother. Ischizu was left alone with her thoughts.

"I have to stay here and work. Seto, will you come back at seven?" She asked, her hands fixing the crepe of her skirt.

Mokuba responded for him.

"Sure, Ischizu! See you later!" Mokuba tugged on his brother's arm, and Kaiba gave her a last look as he left.

**AN**:  
Duke is not my favorite character, but he is likable. I will put him in the next chapter if I get some reviews. And if not, I might put him in anyway. I hope to have Duke as a friend to Kaiba. See, two relationships that grow; one with Isis, and another with Duke. Hopefully I can pull this off without going OOC! Read and review!


	3. Interference

CHAPTER FIVE: INTERFERENCE

**AN**:  
Crappy chapter. All Kaiba/Isis fans will be utterly disappointed. This is more Kaiba/Duke than anything else, but I do not approve or like Kaiba/Duke. This story will not head in the direction of Kaiba/Duke. Period. Hope I didn't lose too many readers (not reviewers, because hey, I have like 1) because this is a pretty crappy chapter. Displays Kaiba's feelings well, which is nice, since the other chapters focused more on Ischizu than him. Happy reading!

"Sure, Ischizu! See you later!" Mokuba tugged on his brother's arm, and Kaiba gave her a last look as he left.

She smiled gently, her fingers begging to be lifted and waved, but they stood stiffly at her right.

Outside, Mokuba pulled Kaiba until he dropped Kaiba's arm unexpectedly. With a gasp and a laugh, he ran down the steps.

"Duke!" He hopped into Duke's arms that hugged him and ruffled his hair. Duke Devlin, CEO of D3 Corp, stared over the boy's head into the CEO of Kaiba Corp.

"Hey, Kaiba. Long time no see." It was a lazy, drawled response. To say the least, Seto was slightly surprised at his appearance here. In reply to his greeting, Kaiba gave him a glare.

Mokuba stepped back to admire Duke, who was sprawled, lean legged against his blue sports car. Kaiba was not amused. Clad in a blue button down shirt and dark pants, Duke looked ready to go to a formal meeting.

"What business do you have in Egypt, Duke?" Mokuba happily beamed up at him.

"Promote D3 worldwide; so far it's going great. I got something for you, kiddo." he said, as he looked at Mokuba, who grinned.

"Lemme see!" He hopped from on leg to another, the anticipation bothering him. Duke slid a rectangular shaped box into Mokuba's small hands. Kaiba looked with disinterest; the man was clearly buying his brother's trust.

"You can't buy people's trust," Kaiba said darkly, and then added quietly, "and I don't assume you believed you would."

"Lighten up, Kaiba. I just got through some preliminary meetings with my associates. Maybe you want to come with me for a drink?" Duke's smirk mirrored that of Kaiba's when he was clearly annihilating the opponent in Duel Monsters.

"I don't drink," Seto said blandly, and with this, he snatched his brother back by holding his hand.

Mokuba, whom had opened the rectangular shaped box, was clearly surprised. His eyes lit up in happiness, and Duke smiled. The kid was easy to impress, but Duke wasn't manipulating his feelings. He genuinely liked the boy.

"Well then, I guess we could just go for ice cream. Sound fun?" He directed this question to Mokuba, who nodded and did a small victory twirl.

"Mokuba, I've got research to do. We don't have time to waste." Seto said this as he looked ready to rebel. Mokuba sighed.

"Quit being so uptight; I've got some matters to discuss with you, as well." Duke emphasized the 'you' part and looked at Seto this time. Crossing his arms, Seto shrugged.

"Whatever it is, leave it with my secretary." Seto gave a smug look as he said this.

"You're here now, and you can't protest." Duke smiled at the amount of power he had over Kaiba's younger brother. With a tug, Mokuba hopped over the convertible door into the backseat.

"C'mon, brother. It's only for a little while. Plus I want ice cream." Mokuba did this intentionally. Stiffly, he walked over to the car.

Sliding into the front seat, Duke smiled at him sideways. Seto uncomfortably rested his elbow on the car window.

"Let's go." And it was with that statement that they rushed forward, zig-zagged through traffic and braked into a parking position outside of an ice cream shoppe.

"Nice driving, Duke. You drive just like my brother." With this bubbly comment, Mokuba unbuckled his seatbelt and skipped into the shoppe ahead of them. Seto began unbuckling his when Duke spoke.

"I lied for you," he said, darkly, shifting back into the seat, raising a hand to his forehead. Seto had probably never seen Duke as serious as this in a long time. Perhaps it was their friendship, or "friendship" that had been forged out of numerous business deals that made them close, but not-

"Don't expect gratitude." Seto stopped fumbling with the seatbelt. He looked embarrassing always trying to unbuckle the seatbelt in foreign cars. Suddenly, Duke snapped, a thin, worrisome thread that had hung in the air had snapped in half.

"The media will find out sooner or later and it can only mean a bad image for you and less profit for KaibaCorp-!" Duke blurted, angrily. Kaiba narrowed his eyes into thin slits.

"You know nothing of me. Stay out of my way." With that he got up, swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt and slammed the car door. As soon as he had turned around, Duke spoke up.

"You always try to get rid of me, Kaiba. The fact is that you can't. It's not about the business deals. I don't care about your money. I care about y-"

"Shut. Up." Firm, and even, Duke could see the sudden change in Kaiba. Kaiba hadn't seen true friendship in his time. Even Yuugi was treated like dirt for the longest time, and he still stuck around.

"I guess some people don't change," Duke said, a faint sarcastic voice. Duke was obtrusive in every aspect to Kaiba; he represented a milder, kinder version of someone he had known.

The shoppe looked cheery, save for Kaiba's uptight attitude. Several people recognized Duke almost immediately. Mokuba shrugged sheepishly and went to order ice-cream at the front counter. A young girl approached Duke, her slim arm extending a small notepad for him to autograph. With ease and suaveness, he signed his name and smiled at her. A faint rosy blush appeared on her cheeks. Kaiba shook the image out of his head, focusing on more important things at hand.

Mokuba juggled three ice-cream cones, resting them in between his extended fingers. While picking up napkins he noticed the distant look on his brother's face as he watched Duke sign autographs. Several other females noticed his brother as well, giggling and turning their head away. Perhaps they had heard of his brother's attitude towards everyone.

"Ice-cream, Brother?" Mokuba's hand extended to him an ice-cream cone filled to the top with a white, creamy mix, dappled with mint chips.

"No thanks," He said, and his brother licked what was supposed to chocolate ice-cream. Mokuba then went to tug on Duke's arm. Surprised that Mokuba knew his favorite flavor was mint-chip, he smiled. Something ticked Kaiba off about Duke; everyone knew _his_ favorite flavor was mint-chip. Grudgingly he slid into a chair, taking a napkin and pawning a pen off the front counter. From there he began to write out pseudo-code for his newest virtual game-

Duke had sat across from him, raising the ice-cream cone and licking it. Several girls from the other table giggled at the sight. They were brainless and immature to Kaiba, but of couse, almost everyone to him was.

"Hey," was Duke's small greeting. Duke could never be angry for long, because it just wasn't in his demeanor. But it was told that Duke had articulate sense; that's why he excelled at creating and maintaining business relationships. Kaiba had hired someone else for that job; he wasn't exactly the best person to negotiate with. Kaiba ignored the greeting.

Mokuba sat on the table, ignoring the sign near the counter that read, "No sitting on tables," and faced Duke. He swung his legs freely at the end of the table.

"So kid, been anywhere interesting lately?" With this Duke put an arm on Mokuba's leg, almost to contain his hyperactivity.

"We went to the Ishtar's place. You know, Marik and Ischizu Ishtar." Mokuba said, his back still facing his brother. Annoyedly, Kaiba interjected.

"It's none of your business," Was the cutting interjection. Duke slumped against the back of the chair.

"Heh. Ischizu Ishtar? She run's part of the exhibit here in Egypt, and even in Japan she was head of the research for a little while," Duke said matter-of-factly. Kaiba ignored his comment as it was information he already knew.

"You like her?" At first Kaiba thought that the question had been directed at him. But of course not, he had a quick, witty reply to everything. He rooted throughout his mind for a reply-

"Yeah, she's nice. Especially to brother. She calls him by his first name." Kaiba glared at his brother's back. If only he could be a little more obvious with everything!

"That's sweet of her," and as Duke saw Kaiba's icy look, added, "It's probably because she's older." Mokuba nodded at this, and there was finality in the last statement. Kaiba dug through his trenchcoat pocket for his planner. Flipping up to this date, he realized he had nothing major planned for tomorrow, or the day after that. After the third day, he had a board meeting in Japan to review stock values and current quarter interests.

Kaiba watched as Duke haphazardly licked the last of his ice-cream, even a small stream of the mint-chip that had leaked around the ice-cream cone. Mokuba tossed his napkin in the trash, and as soon as he did, a woman at the counter struck up a conversation with him.

"So which one's your brother? The one with the pretty hair or the nice eyes?" She propped up her elbow to support her heart-shaped face.

"My brother's Seto, the one with the brown hair," Mokuba said plainly. Reaching over the counter, he spelled out his name for her on the napkin.

"He's cute," she said, wiping her hands on her apron, and headed into the back room of the shoppe. Mokuba wiped his hands on a remaining napkin and noticed an arcade game in the corner. Digging a quarter out of his messy stacks of twenty dollar bills in his pocket, he slid the quarter in. The game began to start up and he was lost in the confusion of collecting small yellow dots on the screen as Pac-Man darted about.

Kaiba tried to look for things to reschedule. With this, he splayed the planner out on the table and began to move things around, crossing out a meeting in March to be rescheduled to February. Good, the more busy he was, the better. The more he had free time, the more he realized how much he-

"I'm sorry about exploding," Duke licked his bottom lip clean of ice-cream. He leaned forward on the table, propping his face up with his hands.

"Whatever." Iciness leaked from him. He gave a glance towards Mokuba who was not yet ready to leave.

"So how's the company been?" Small talk was not Kaiba's forte. It was either business or a waste of time. That had been pasted in his mind ever since Gozaburo had entered his life. His shoulder twitched at how he had remembered that moment.

"Fine." Seto crossed out the last line of the meeting details. He could reschedule that next week; nothing planned on Saturday. Good. Every single block of the month was filled up with something, except the next two days. He could probably fill up the second day, but he needed tomorrow to get back to Japan. He reasoned that on the plane ride he could have most of the blueprint for the virtual game ready by then.

"I guess I know why you took those anti-depressants now," he said, giving a furtive look at Kaiba's planner. It was a serious tone, but Kaiba felt as if he was mocking him.

"I've got work," he said, almost hoarsely. "Unlike you." He clicked the pen, and watched the pen cap roll towards Duke. Duke quickly took hold of the pen cap, and held it between his fingers.

"Kaiba," he said, almost gently, "Why do you have to be like this? What about what Yuugi said? They cared about you," It was almost a desperate plea.

"Yes," he said, in a mocking tone, dropping the pen to the table, "Yuugi took pleasure in beating me. But that's not a problem. It will be fixed as soon as the next time I see him. His worthless friends are nothing but a bunch of-"

Duke had snatched the pen off the table, and clamped on to Kaiba's wrist. The pen scratched against his inner wrist, creating a dark black line, nearly three or four centimeters long. Kaiba looked disgusted.

"Don't talk about them like that. Not after what they had done for you. Not what everyone wanted for you! We were stuck in that virtual game, and I felt what you felt.."

Kaiba jerked his hand back; physical contact had not been a part of his life for a long time. He wanted to get out of here, far away from everything in his life. He rubbed faintly, the pen ink beginning to dilute as soon as he rubbed it with his fingers.

"You don't know me, and don't assume you do. You don't know anything about my past or his," he glanced towards Mokuba, "and it's nothing that concerns you," With that he got up.

The pen remained in Duke's hands as he stood up, slightly frustrated.

"You just keep running away from everything," Duke said, his face twisting into confusion, "and I don't care if you hate me, I'm still a part of your life, and I'm not going anywhere." Mokuba watched distantly from the corner of his game. He had used up all his quarters, deciding to now redirect his attention to his brother who was severely angry with his friend. "Friend." How easy it was to understand it, but for his brother, it wasn't like that at all.

"Brother!" There was a faint squeak that came from him as his brother swept him away, walking out of the café. Several people, still licking their ice-cream, never noticed the tension at all.

"Brother!" It was a faint, tug at Kaiba's heart. Again, and again. He would hear it even at night. His brother's voice filled his mind, screaming sometimes, crying at others. But never really happy. Of course, he could've just as easily replaced his brother's downtrodden image with his own. Sick of this world, and sick of people-

"Kaiba!" Seto could feel something at the back of his eyes, but most would assume it was the wind that was now whipping his hair wildly into other directions. It seemed like a storm was approaching. Mokuba bet his money on it that Seto would have run out if it hadn't been for him.

"Kaiba!" Again. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't go away. He wanted him gone, forced away in some corner of life he didn't need to experience. He didn't want friendship, his kindness, or his help. He didn't want anything to do with the man named Duke Devlin. Ever.

"Kaiba!" The last one. Kaiba's arm was tugged by Duke who spun him around. Something wet, something soft and wet could be felt inside his body. He didn't want him to be there. Nothing could replace the aloneness in his body, that leaked from every corner.

With that, Duke brought him into his arms, Kaiba's wet cheek, perhaps it was the drizzle falling from the clouds, nestled into his shoulder. Mokuba held his brother's hand which had been drained of color. Duke could feel Kaiba's warm mouth open, the lips parting to touch his skin. Mokuba's small fingers enveloped his brothers soft fingers.

"Let me take it out," Duke said fakely, hoping to deter Mokuba from the fact that his brother was..

Kaiba lifted his head, the trenchcoat was shrugged off his shoulders immediately. It was raining. Duke leaned forward and pretended to remove something from Kaiba's eyes, sweeping his thumb over the edge of his right eye, and then pretending to check to see if it was still there.

"It's out," Kaiba said hoarsely. In the past few years Duke had consoled him, somehow, in the fine, recesses of his mind, he could locate how he could easily wipe away something, just as if it was something that was in his eye.

"Oh," Mokuba said, finally understanding. Somehow he had failed to catch something invisible hanging in the air. Mokuba trotted backwards.

"Let's go pick Ischizu now, Brother," he said, "I just want a rest." Mokuba said this softly, bringing his small hand to his own cheek.

"I'll drive you guys there." Duke offered, and secretively he nudged Kaiba who had turned around and pretended to look at an incoming car to quickly wipe his eyes. Whatever that was in his eye before had come back, and he wiped diligently a few times, and Duke nodded and said, "It's out." As Mokuba walked ahead of them, Duke dug his hands into his pockets.

"I don't like seeing you like this," Duke said, his green eyes darting towards Kaiba who now held his trenchcoat in one arm and looked slightly less icily at the floor.

"I don't give a damn." He gave an icy glare towards him, and Duke smiled forward. They went into the car, and as they drove, Kaiba ran his fingers over the blank, white fabric of his trenchcoat.

They appeared in front of the museum almost immediately. The rain thickened considerably. Mokuba jumped out and rushed towards the museum, leaving Kaiba still unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Here," With ease Duke slid the seatbelt off, looking at him serenely.

"Hn." Was the small understanding by Kaiba. As soon as he had begun to get up, Duke stopped him.

"Wait, hold on," He leaned forward into Kaiba's seat, his mouth parting to softly land a kiss on Kaiba's tender neck. With a shrug and a twitch of the shoulder blade, Kaiba got up immediately.

"Don't." Was all he said, and he turned his back on Duke, sitting handsomely in the car. Of course, Duke had known all along, that Kaiba was in love with Ischizu all along. Duke smiled with ease; being smooth was part of his business after all. Of course, he had not expected, even after claiming Kaiba's trust two years ago, that Kaiba would fall in love with him. For a little while, he was hurt, but as with any problem or obstacle, Duke shrugged it off, awaiting the finer points in life.

Far away, he could hear Mokuba's laughter as they rendezvoused with Ischizu at the top of the steps in front of the museum. At least they were happy. Duke sped away, without a thought in his mind.

**AN**:  
I know. This chapter didn't go in the direction I wanted it to. Plus, I pulled the characters OOC a little. Duke's definitely not that sensitive, but then again, he doesn't play a big part in the show, so the viewer doesn't know a lot about him. I kind of just put whatever I thought would fit him. Mokuba stayed in character, amazingly. Kaiba went OOC near the end, but the inclusion of the "Don't." part pathetically made up for it. Listen, this is not a Duke/Kaiba pairing.

They are friends. I know I made it sound like Duke was desperately in love with him, but it's not the way I first intended to write it. It just kind of happened. Anywho, this is still Kaiba/Isis, and you can tell he isn't as nervous around Duke, which kind of is self-explanatory – he does not like Duke the way he likes Ischizu. Got it? Good. Read and review, kids.


	4. Altercations

**AUTHOR NOTE**

_Warning, this chapter has minor graphic sexual references, and this might not be suitable for children!_  
The long awaited sixth chapter. I'm sorry I couldn't get this earlier, because I had this two seconds from being finished last week. I had Spring Break from highschool so I could have uploaded it last week but my modem wasn't working properly. Anyway, I apologize for the lateness and also for the really badly written last chapter. I know I could've worked more on it, and I really, really rushed Duke and Kaiba's relationship. But since I don't give a hoot about Duke, I don't feel too bad. If it was Ischizu's relationship with Kaiba I had rushed, I'd be really sad, since I wanted this piece of work to become one of the best Trust-Shipping fiction pieces out there. I'm sorry I'm rambling, but this chapter is _way_ better, more descriptive, and about the length of the first chapter. It's 100 better than the last chapter, trust me. I put # in the text as small references and quirks. By the way, I'm reformatting my previous chapters! Enjoy!

**c h a p t e r s i x **

a l t e r c a t i o n s

Happiness leaked from the younger Kaiba as he hopped two steps at a time to the museum. His wide eyes watched the world in naive innocence. Ischizu stood at the front desk, conversing with the receptionist. Kaiba lingered at the door, his fingertips brushing the cool glass of the revolving door. Mokuba fled towards Ischizu, calling her name. Kaiba pressed his hand to his forehead, realizing it was warmer than it had been when he had left. His hand dug into his coat for his pillcase. Unfortunately, he had forgotten it at the Ishtar residence. _Unbelievable_, he scolded himself. He resigned himself to closely watching his brother converse with Ischizu. It was strange, how well they'd get along, and his eyes followed her chai-colored hands gently caress his sibling's cheek.

"Ischizu! I'm sorry we're a little late. We met Duke and went to the ice cream parlor." Mokuba explained, making hand gestures explaining Duke's driving style. Ischizu passed over an identification card to the receptionist, and the receptionist stamped it firmly, creating a silver, illuminating seal. It sparkled and glimmered in the dim light of the museum. The glimmer created soft, dim shapes on the metal doors in the hallway. There was a brief clank as Kaiba leaned against the metal door. The receptionist looked in his direction momentarily before changing her perspective. It was terribly chilled in the museum, the coldness preferred over the heat that might damage the museum displays and exhibits. The humid, moist air blew in from the cracks in the metal doors, as Kaiba had astutely noticed, reclining against the bulletin board. The thumb and post-it tacks bit into his back, but he refused to move. He had a neat view of the stack of newspapers with their blatant lies.

"It's all right. I had to speak with the manager anyway," she said softly. She viewed Kaiba from the top of Mokuba's head. He had leaned against the bulletin board in the corner, looking incredibly disinterested at the stack of newspapers on the floor. There was something that she needed desperately to speak with Kaiba about. Of course, being stubborn as he was, he would refuse her. His lean, slick body filled the tight, dark leather pants, creating creases as he impatiently flexed his leg from the back of his body to the front. Ischizu's eyes would wander, sometimes, follow the traces of his lean muscles as they created definitive ridges against his leather. In Battle City, she'd felt that slick material once or twice, and it had felt so warm, so strange, filled with this teenage boy who acted like an adult.

"I want to go home," she said, walking over to Kaiba. The small sparkles of her identification card had disappeared in the folds of a pocket in her skirt. The sparkle was replaced by a faint jingling sound of keys that were hooked on to Kaiba's sleek belt. The buckle of the belt hung just below his waist. It was strange how he dressed, but at the same time, it looked appropriate for him. He had traded in his older belt with the logo 'KC' on it for two dark brown leather belts that hung loosely around his waist. 1 He gazed at his younger brother, who stood with wide, round eyes. _His eyes had been rounder when he was younger,_ Kaiba thought, a little disappointedly. Maybe Mokuba was turning into him. He didn't want that for him, not ever. He looked up to meet Ischizu's cool, stoic eyes.

"Best idea all afternoon," he remarked sarcastically, his hands immediately returning to his belt to retrieve the keys. Mokuba found that Ischizu and Kaiba had now retired to verbal dueling tactics. His brother had often, if not all the time, had the upper hand, but Ischizu was learning, and she was a worthy opponent. Anyone else would have easily been crushed by his brother's apathy. The walk to the car was a solemn, silent one. His brother's attitude had changed from quiet to angry, to burning. The burning episode often lasted for long periods of time. Ischizu's eyes flickered, darting from subject to subject, never stopping on one object too long. Mokuba traced her line of sight. Every so often, her eyes would dart back to his brother. _I wish other people would understand my brother like Ischizu does_, he thought, as he sighed. _I wish someone could love him as much as I do._

"Ischizu, do you miss Japan?" The younger Kaiba made small talk in the car. He had leaned in from the backseat of the car to the front, his head semi-resting on her shoulder. A certain, warm glow emanated from the child, and her fingers went out to trace his cheek. Kaiba's eyes darted apprehensively in her direction as he drove. She was not to be trusted; he had not trusted anyone much with Mokuba in his life. Being the sole guardian of Mokuba was difficult and complex. A gentle sigh escaped Ischizu, her small chest rising and then falling much to Kaiba's discomfort. His eyes blurred and then refocused on the road. He was listening in to the conversation, the words that were being volleyed back and forth between Ischizu and Mokuba had suddenly become a spectator sport for him.

"Yes, very much so. I miss Yuugi and everyone else," she said, her hand playing with his dark locks. Kaiba wanted to swat her hand away from his brother but he was uncomfortable as Mokuba liked the affection, and reciprocated it. Mokuba nodded, falling back into the backseat, the belt that wrapped around his chest becoming a slight annoyance. The last few days had become so much of a distant memory to him. His brother fainting, Ischizu becoming somewhat of a mother figure to him, and meeting Duke. It was becoming a quick blur of three days. His older brother checked the rearview mirror to find his younger brother wiping his eyes. His eyes, his round eyes. Kaiba could see Ischizu's slender body turn to face his sibling, the smooth curve of her back similar to the letter 'S'. _She always has a perfect posture, even now_, he thought, noticing the thin lines formed in the loose cotton of her dress creating ripples down her back like a smooth waterfall.

"How was your trip to New York? After Battle City, I mean?" The words stung Kaiba, his shoulders twitching slightly. He could feel his own shoulder blade dig into the seat. The question had not been directed at him. Because if it was for him, he'd unknowingly blurt out other remnants of problems lingering in his mind. Mokuba piped up, always the optimist. Ischizu listened intently. Kaiba buried himself in false memories of his victory. Fate? He didn't believe in it. A minor mistake on his part had cost him the Dueling Championship. His chest swelled as he took in a handful of air. How would his life have been different had he won instead of that amateur, Yuugi? He had always been the favorite in all the championships, several opponents weeping in front of him on their knees at their defeat. But now Yuugi was always considered the favorite, no matter what the circumstances. His eyes blurred and focused on the road, trying to block out his thoughts. _No more of the past_, he mentally struggled to say, trying to think of other things.

"The company's influence is spreading in the United States, too. I'm really glad because we've become very successful." Mokuba gently drew circles and small shapes on the foggy backseat window. Kaiba's grip tightened on the steering wheel. Silence. He wanted silence. Sometimes he'd use his brother's talk as background noise so he could sleep. It brought comfort, sometimes reassurance. But now he wanted to sink into nothingness, like the swirl of milk in his coffee. Ischizu's tea-colored hand brushed his on the radio dial. He brought his hand immediately to the steering wheel, his head pounding. Comfort. Comfort. Comfort. If he thought it enough, it would come to him. He drowned out his thoughts, the background country music leaking into the recesses of his mind.

Mokuba now scribbled furiously on the foggy window. Ischizu refrained from asking any more questions as she saw Kaiba's extreme discomfort. His defined jaw line had been taut the entire car ride, his long fingers stiff and cold. She'd felt them as she'd turn the radio dial. His lips had become dry, and he licked them ever so often to keep them moist. Dry lips? She struggled to not comment. She wanted to say that it was bad for lips to be licked, that the saliva digested the soft tissue of the lips and caused them to be more chapped than before. Her lips quivered, and she brought a finger to gently trace her lips, and then fall slowly to her neck, gingerly rubbing at the unknown. _He has the perfect profile_, she thought, the small weaknesses running up and down her back. Ischizu could trace with her eyes the perfect forehead, a neat, sharp nose, a strong jaw, and delicious lips. _Delicious_? _..You have to stop, Ischizu. Your weaknesses are overriding your common sense_, she thought, and drifted elsewhere.

The car halted. They all exited the car, Mokuba the only one refusing to acknowledge the tense atmosphere that had been building all afternoon. He supposed that it proliferated more, and more, wearing down his older brother. An unknown stress he wasn't aware of. Their solid entrance was met with an empty quiet. Mokuba collapsed on the sofa, deciding to take a short nap. Besides, he knew his brother would contest; that they needed to go back to Japan for meetings, meetings, and more meetings. He knew that the planner had been filled up for everyday. He'd checked it once or twice while his brother was not watching. A small ache made its way into his heart, as he watched his brother slowly disintegrate from love, and then slowly to pain. He shut his eyes, trying to remember a faint memory in the park, when his brother had slowly kissed his forehead.

"_I will always protect you, Mokuba."_ He half-wished that his brother would think less of that promise as a duty and more of it as out of love. Mokuba remembered just last month, creeping into his Brother's room at near midnight. The mansion had been quiet, creating small echoes of his footsteps. He opened the door to find his brother back slumped into an S-shape as he sat on his bed, his shoulders twitching, forming spasmodic jerks into blank space. Sweat shimmered off his brother's back, and he heard Seto let out a small cry, a weak whimper of disgrace and shame. His brother's damp hair stuck near his neck, messy and unreformed. Seto's hands had been splayed out in front of him, supporting his thin frame. Something seized his brother's body, causing racks of spasmodic jerks of his spine.

This had continued for as long as he could remember. The episode would end, and Mokuba would climb back into his bed, half-wishing that he could go back to his brother's room and climb up into his elder's lap and cling onto a relic of love. He would wish that his brother's arms would then loop around him, creating a safety barrier from all harm, and then they would sleep, his small body cradled in his Brother's. It never happened. He refused to cause more distress to his brother. He refused to become more of an annoyance than he already was. Seto blatantly refused that he was a burden, yelling at Mokuba for even thinking the mere idea. Mokuba let a small hand go up to his forehead. It trembled slightly, the stress from this vacation building. He finally let the small shadows lurk elsewhere, giving in to sleep.

Seto watched as his brother found comfort on the sofa of the Ishtar residence. He let his eyes glance to the hallway. He'd be fine. He'd be just fine. He walked through the narrow hallway to what was Ischizu's room. Kaiba stopped as he found Ischizu removing her jewelry – as if she were beginning to undress. He forced his hand through the small opening of the door, parting it. Ischizu unhooked her small silver earring onto her dresser and looked up at him. Seto had noticed her small, frail frame. He could probably snap her neck with a simple twist, as he had been taught in his martial arts classes, but he'd hate to have anything mar that perfect, slim neck of hers. _Stop_, he struggled to say to himself, crushing his wild hormones. He'd been able to do so while he attended public highschool, but all those girls had been idiotic. Not that Ischizu was any less of an idiot than they were, but at least she could somewhat hold her own in a Duel Monsters battle.

"Yes?" Was a small, almost indifferent question. Weak. She was weak and frail, and sooner or later she'd be crushed by the harsh society around her. He almost felt sorry for her. But he was Kaiba, and years and years of discipline had forced him to feel otherwise. Something clicked inside his mind, bringing up a tidal wave of memories. Seto looked at her indifferently, his shoulders and body ramrod straight. He'd been beaten into obtaining that posture for years from Gozaburo, and only now he realized he could no longer slip into a slipshod posture without effort. _I'd rather, move on with everything there is, than remember that snake_, he thought.

"I'm using your shower. Get me some clothes and a towel." It was a fierce demand, but in an almost monotone voice. She creased her eyebrows, almost as if she wanted to refuse his possession of her. He treated her like a slave at times. At others, he was almost playfully sarcastic. She forced down her dignity and walked out of the room. Stepping into Marik's room, she opened a small cupboard-like appendage near the foot of his bed. She retrieved a white towel, the small fibers brushing against her skin. Making a small pile, she began to search for appropriate attire. Kaiba watched by the doorframe, nearly filling up the space, and creating a small, lengthy shadow. She fished out a dark blue button-up shirt and some dark slacks. Picking up the small pile, she handed them to Seto, who seemed incredibly distressed by this point. They returned to Ischizu's room, and he looked around almost blankly, which was an expression she had not seen on his features for a long time.

"I need a razor." He said, holding the clothes now, the request almost childish. She viewed his face and didn't think he needed one. But perhaps that was the reason his face was always smooth to the touch- not that she knew, but just by looking she could tell. Resigning herself to her dressing, she opened up a few of the small openings and used her hands as her eyes to search for a razor. Her hands stopped at a plastic package and a smooth bottle. She grabbed these out of the dresser and tossed them on the bed. A razor and shaving cream. Ischizu nearly chuckled at the sight. He now sat frustrated on the bed, his hand reaching up to his forehead. She was a woman, and she was inclined to forget these things. _A woman_? He'd nearly brought himself to call her a woman. Sometimes he wondered if she toyed with him, often using his own words against him, sometimes being sarcastic, and most of the time, stoic. She had full, cup-like breasts, which she often folded her arms in front of. _Too bad_, he thought, and then nearly mentally screamed at himself when he thought so. When she walked he had sometimes given a thought about the junction of her two, slender legs. _Stop. _He'd said it louder in his mind this time, shutting off all such thoughts immediately.

"What else?" She murmured out loud, and then the thought struck as her almost as if she had been slapped in the face. Ischizu apologized outwardly, running back to Marik's room and rummaging through his drawers. Seto followed nearby, his eyes averting to her back as she crouched down to search. He watched intently as she bent down to look. A jolt of teenage hormones rushed through his body, causing goosebumps over his skin. _Those legs_, he thought, _I'd like to part those thighs, spread them apart_, he thought, and then, he clenched his fist, his shoulder immediately tightening considerably. _No_, he thought, _she is weak and useless_. Immediately forcing them into his hands, she bit her lip and retired to busily searching for an unknown object on the dresser. He had been on the verge of embarrassment, his hands now full. He approached the bathroom in the corner of her room and closed the door. The shaft of light that had once created a block of golden on her bed disappeared.

She sighed inwardly. How was she to know that he needed _undergarments_? Marik would be thoroughly amused by her antics. She'd searched for boxers in her brother's wardrobe and found ones that Seto would not be able to disapprove of. With a sigh, she contentedly flopped down on her bed. Before she could rest, she immediately got up, crushed the lotus that had been placed on her dresser weeks before, and hid it in one of her drawers. She now resigned to the sounds of warm water hitting the bathtub floor. Her mind lulled into a state of nirvana.

She remembered Egypt, then, suddenly, and her encounter with Priest Set one clear night.

_Isis crept towards the baths, the only place in the palace that would be empty by midnight. She knew she'd be scolded for wandering around after-hours, but she was a Priestess. Claiming that she also had some authority, she positioned herself behind a pillar. Perhaps tonight she could take a nice cool bath without being interrupted by immediate demands. She undressed, her white dress falling to the cemented sand._

_She approached the waters, leaning a foot in timidly to check the temperature. Sighing, she let her body delve and part the waters. The cool water flowed around her, the coolness causing her to shiver involuntarily. The waters were best at night, since the night air would cause them to be fresher than in the morning._

_**Splash!**_

_Her heart skipped a beat. She looked around wildly, hoping not to be seen. She knew if a Priestess's body was exposed to any male, that she would be further deposed of her position. She was not alone in the baths, as she heard frequent splashes. Isis mentally screamed, hoping that whoever it was would leave. She tread the waters and waded out, her body clinging to a wet rock near the water's edge. She finally found the stranger._

_The almost pale body shimmered in the moonlight. She squinted to view the dark brown hair messily atop this lanky figure. The male stood in the water, using a bright metal pail to bring the water to his head, shoulders and mid-torso. The water created slivers of sparkling water down his back. Her heart lurched as she finally recognized the person. Just as her realization struck her, the male turned around and caught sight of her._

"_Priest Set..?" she murmured almost weakly as she cringed and clung to the rock tighter. He had not seen her. He had not seen her. He had not seen her. His eyes narrowed into thin sapphire slits. He cast aside the pail, away from the waterline. He stood up at full height, the waters swirling dangerously around him. His body was of cruel, twisted laborious strength._

"_Clothe yourself." He said firmly, his distant eyes now focusing and refocusing on her. He then turned away, his back facing her. She waded into the waters to reach the other side of the baths. She folded her body out of the water, and wiped herself off with a cloth strewn near the water's edge. She quickly tied the dress with slipshod performance around her. Now she could leave and pretend this never happened. But a voice came to her._

"_You are fully aware that scribes and priests are allowed to bathe in the baths after-hours, Isis." He murmured, as he cast water over himself, repeating the motion and then blindly wiping sticky hair from his face. She nodded obediently, and just as she was about to turn away, saw a sly smile form on his face. Her chest pounded wildly as she exited the baths, parting the annoying silk sheets adorning the room. As she dashed through the hallway, she could hear faint laughter._ 2

Ischizu sank into her pillows, trying to block out the memory. He had not repeated this incident to the Pharaoh, or the fellow Priests. She wondered what was going on his mind, but she let sleep overtake her. She needed comfort in blind obedience of sleep.

Seto had closed the bathroom door, gaining immediate privacy. He let the shaving cream and razor fall to the top of the sink. He immediately scrutinized his features, leaning in towards the mirror to get a closer look. Kaiba hadn't had facial hair for the longest time he could remember, but he couldn't risk it. Pressing the shaving cream can, it spurted out onto his face, and he lathered it evenly with his hands. Bringing the razor up to the side of his face, he pulled down, the feel of it as it scraped down his face somewhat exciting. He'd just recently started shaving, and it had been sparked when one of Yuugi's friends claimed that he was so 'manly' that he had to shave everyday. He was almost done, bringing down the razor to near his jawline. He remembered Yuugi, the faint memory of him trying to befriend him, and himself denying Yuugi every time.

"_Hey, Kaiba!" The small teenager had climbed up on the lunchroom table next to him. He ignored him for the first part, and then when Yuugi did not go away, turned abruptly to face him. Yuugi enjoyed bothering him, and even worse, beating him in Duel Monsters. When did he not figure out that he **didn't** want friendship? The only thing Kaiba wanted from Yuugi was the Duel Monsters Championship. End of story._

"_What?" He asked coldly, hoping that this little insect would go back to its hive of friends in the center of the lunchroom. Kaiba had often eaten lunch in the corner, deciding that he didn't need the attention of the fangirls and groupies he had accumulated in his highschool years._

"_You wanna come with us to the arcade after school?" Yuugi genuinely asked him, placing a hand on top of one of Seto's textbooks, forcing Kaiba to sincerely question this ridiculous request. At the center of the lunchroom, Tea Gardner rose, and walked swiftly next to Yuugi._

"_Hello, Kaiba. We'd really appreciate it if you could come," she said warmly. Her smile had often caused Kaiba to cringe on certain occasions, but now he wondered why she even bothered. They knew he would refuse, and they also knew they'd come back another day, ask him for his companionship, and he would rudely refuse it. The friendship girl had continued to smile. Her smile did not bother him, it flustered him. And Kaiba did not get flustered._

"_And this is the part where I rudely refuse and you all sulk back to your table, claiming that I'm a jerk. Why don't we just cut to the part where you leave?" He said coldly, picking up his textbooks. Gardner's smile faltered. Yuugi put on a weak smile, his eyes beginning to soften. Even Yuugi had his limits; Kaiba hoped that one day he'd crack._

"_Maybe another time," Yuugi said softly, and he got up, and walked with friendship girl back to the table. The mutt began to converse, loudly insulting Kaiba. Seto walked past without listening. He'd heard the same things everyday, and it mattered none to him. He'd go on being the way he was, regardless of the success of it. Friends were weaknesses, friends were flaws in perfection.._

The razor nicked the area near his cheekbone. A thin red line formed, and he scrambled to wash it out, the water causing it to sting. He used the hand towel on the side, causing it to form a dark, red area when he brought it back in his hands. He touched the wound with his index finger, the parting of the skin made apparent by two definite ridges. With an inhale, he relocated the shaving cream and razor near the sink. Seto began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it off his shoulders. He faced the mirror, noticing that he had gotten thinner since last time. Thinner was better. He'd seen Ischizu glance at him, sometimes secretly, sometimes openly. It was strange, how he got a satisfaction out of her approval, but not of those stupid girls at his highschool whose eyes bulged whenever he exposed his body. In Physical Education, he had tossed off his shirt for basketball practice, and several girls swooned as he did so.

He even saw a rosy blush appear on the friendship girl's cheeks, the puppy looked at him oddly, and Yuugi remained oblivious. One freshman girl had fainted and had to be taken to the nurse's office. That particular day, he didn't break a sweat as he single-handedly defeated the puppy's basketball troupe, making eight three-pointers in less than five minutes. He remembered blocking the mutt's shot, slamming the ball hard against the wood polished floor. The idiotic pup had looked at him with wide eyes, claiming that Kaiba had cheated. Seto just smirked, leaving the gymnasium with the coach begging him to join the basketball team.

"Hn." He said out loud, to no one in particular. He brought his knuckles over his chest, feeling the muscles lining his upper body. Kaiba then brought it down to above his navel, the abdomen muscles clearly apparent in the mirror. With one hand, he wound it around his back, the back of his hand feeling the ridges of his spine. Frustrated, he began to unbuckle his belt, hearing the small _clink!_ As it fell to the tile bathroom floor. He undid the other belt, creating the same _clink!_ His pants had felt loose now, and his hands busily unbuttoned the first button. He unzipped his fly, tugging his pants off, his long legs now bare. He slid to the bathroom floor, clutching his head. Something ached, and dulled to an extremity. _Ischizu_.._I'd like to feel those soft tender breasts, hold them in my hands, and explore the rest of her body by touch_. His thoughts were unlike him. _No!_ Kaiba screamed in his mind, _I will do no such thing_._ I am not weak._ How had it become so difficult, so awful to be around her? When had this weakness blossomed, crippling his senses? He had never liked her, but now he was noticing small details of her that he had wished he had never thought. Seto got up, his head pounding, and turned on the showerhead. Water sprayed out, and he jumped back from the coldness. 3

He fumbled with the locket that was wound around a dark cord around his neck. Kaiba refused to take it off; it was waterproof, besides. He slid off his remaining undergarment and stepped into the bathtub, the water was now lukewarm. Threads of water hung down his thin frame, clinging to him, and then desperately falling away. He liked the feel of water against his skin, causing ripples and gently soothing him. He washed his hair, which had become matted with sweat and dust. Seto liked his hair, and didn't dare think of cutting it. The brown locks were neat around his face, and framed it perfectly. Other times when the wind was powerful, and he was walking to school, it would blow in every direction, messing up his hair.

When he'd arrive at school and sit down in his seat, several girls would squeal with excitement. He remembered sliding into his seat, the mutt looked at him sneeringly, and Yuugi waved with his ridiculous grin. _They are worthless_, he thought inwardly, his hand rigorously washing his body. He would like to daydream, just for a little while, even if it was completely wrong, because he hated for those disgusting thoughts to invade otherwise more important time. Seto imagined his hands slipping inside Ischizu's smooth, silk blouse, tearing off the buttons and exposing her glorious breasts. His hands would fumble with the hook on the back, her face in a state of content as he did so. _No more_, he struggled, the soap slipping from his fingers._ I can't do this anymore_.

He tried to suppress the flashes of him unhooking her brassiere and her screaming his name. He was disgusted with himself when he found he sought satisfaction in the way his name rolled off her tongue. _Seto._ _Not Kaiba_, he thought. They all called him Kaiba. That was the name of his idiotic snake of a father. But now he sank into depression, thinking of touching Ischizu, gently holding her, kissing, and then it all faded. An image of them both asleep on a bed, white sheets strewn on top of them. Ischizu then rolling over to him, her body naked under the sheets, looping her arms around him saying softly, "Seto.." _STOP!_

_No more._ He liked the prison of water, but it was time to get out. He needed the time for other, more important and pressing concerns. He stepped out of the shower, his body still dripping with water. No matter. He shrugged his head, causing water drops to fall from his hair, and brought the towel up to thoroughly dry himself off. The clothes would only get wet if he put them on now. Half-agreeing with this thought, he dried off his legs and put on his slacks, buckling the metal buckle. He scooped up his shirt in one hand and the towel in the other, bringing it up to his head and trying to dry off his hair. He opened the door to find Ischizu sprawled on the bed, her cotton dress clinging to her curves. One hand was pressed against the pillow for her head to rest on, and the other was brought up to her chest, which rose and fell at rhythmic intervals.

He didn't give a damn, approaching her dresser for a comb. When he found none, he advanced towards her sleeping figure, wanting to shake her awake abruptly. Instead, his knee pushed against the side of the bed, her body shifting ever so slightly to the right. Now he had room to sit, on her immediate left. His hands went up to shake her, but stopped when she let out a small soft sound, similar to a kitten's _mew_. His chest swelled for no apparent reason. He dropped his shirt and towel to the floor, immediately interested in her. His fingers went out and gently traced her lips. _I wonder what they taste like_, he thought, and in flashed an image of him kissing her feverishly, his hands roaming her trim body. _Disgusting_, he mentally yelled at himself. His fingers trembled slightly and he cursed himself inwardly for being a weak, incompetent fool.

"Mmm." She murmured slightly, bringing up her head and allowing him full view of her slender neck. It was now that he leaned over her, dangerously, because he could, at any given moment, tip over. With amazing balance and finesse, he brought his hand down to touch her cheek. He wondered what it felt like, such foreign, exotic skin. _Exotic?_ He immediately withdrew his hand. He could feel his chest now pounding, dissimilar to her small chest drawing up and down regularly. Suddenly she let out a muffled sound, and he found the source of it. A drop of water had slid down his chest and onto her cheek. As he touched her cheek, a surge of energy shot through his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he could feel himself float into another realm..

"_Cousin," The young Set had reached the steps of the palace, his messy brown hair sticky with dirt. He'd helped that young girl, Kisara, escape from the village, and he'd seen the legendary Blue Eyed Dragon emerge from the burning ashes of that town. His slim figure trembled and buckled as he fell to the floor. The young, soon-to-be pharaoh let out a cry, and ran towards him, holding his limp, cold body in his arms. A guard that had witnessed this event immediately called for the nearest medic. Atemu held his cousin's head in his hands, burying his own head into his neck._

"_Set, Set..please be okay," Atemu held the boy to his body as closely as he could as he carried him to a guest chamber. An elderly priest watched from the side, recognizing the boy. **Son**. The priest thought, and disappeared into the shadows of the hall to alert his brother, the Pharaoh. A clear breeze blew through the palace, alerting the scribes and priests of a new coming. The moon was shining overhead, and somewhere in the lofts of the palace, a young Egyptian girl looked up at the sky._

_Set awoke in the damp guestroom, the moisture lining the walls beginning to condense. His cousin, Atemu, had fallen asleep next to him, an arm secured around his waist. Plucking off the security of Atemu's hand, he rose, only to see a young girl in the doorframe. Rising up, he touched the damp walls, pretending he did not see her. She was dressed in all white, her dark hair reaching her shoulders. She smiled gently._

"_Hello. I am Isis. Who are you?" She approached Set and her cheeks gained a rosy colored blush. Set wiped tiredly at his eyes, and finally acknowledged her. An almost regal aura surrounded her._

"_Set. I am the prince's cousin." He said, putting emphasis on 'prince'. He disliked Atemu's position, to be the next pharaoh. His fingers touched the side of his elongated shirt, which was torn in some places. She leaned over and smiled, her blue eyes shimmering and dancing with light._

"_That's amazing. I'm the priestess-to-be," she said, and noticing the tear in his shirt, added, "I can fix that for you." He nodded, resting on the edge of the bed. She left the room to get her supplies and thought deeply. **Everyone was someone special except for him**. His good for nothing father had left his mother and himself to starve in the village. Set had only recently found out his connection with the royalty, deciding to stay in contact with Atemu has often as he could without coming to the palace._

_As soon as the village had burned down, and he had seen the Blue-Eyed dragon, everything in his entire life had** changed**. It didn't help that he had somehow obtained the Millennium Rod from Atemu, who claimed that it meant to belong to him. He shook his head as the girl had appeared in the doorway._

"_I brought you some water. My mother said that a traveler in Egypt must always be thirsty," she said, warmly. In her hands was a sewing needle, forged most probably from metal in the far east. Preferring not to move from his position, he sat with his legs spread out on the bed. Atemu was still sleeping next to him, and ever so often, he would let out a soft mumble. Isis had begun to hum gently as she sat in the space between his legs so she could work on his torn shirt. The needle was threaded in and out of his shirt dozens and dozens of times until she finally let a finger trace the finely stitched patch._

"_I'll fix this up a bit too," she said, as she scooted in closer to stitch the tear at the collar of his shirt. Her head bumped underneath his chin and he jerked his head back._

"_I apologize," Isis said, and brought his face closer to hers so that she could work easily on the tear. Atemu was getting restless on the side of the bed and awoke, mumbling, and wiping at his eyes. He yawned and stretched._

"_Hello, Isis." She nodded, and did a semi-bow as best as she could while she was sitting. Atemu watched the scene, the small girl that folded somehow into his cousin's slim frame. Her agile fingers sewed with perfection, and she traced the stitch with her finger, still sitting in between his legs, and let out a small laugh._

"_Look, prince, isn't it beautiful?" She touched Set's shoulder and his eyes were cast elsewhere, his mind on another plane of existence. He wasn't thinking of Atemu, or Isis – he was thinking of his father betraying him and his mother. His mother falling down inside the village, trying to save the neighbor's children. Set crying as his father left._

_A warm hand settled on his cheek. His head snapped back into the present. Atemu smiled at him warmly. But it was not his hand; it was the younger girl's. The golden necklace that hung around her neck was most probably the Millenium Tauk._

"_It will be all right. I know," she said, gently, and buried her small head into his chest. Atemu grinned, and got up from the bed, his figure had created a small indented shape on the bed. Set shrugged out of her grip, a sudden ache building in his chest. He rose from the bed, his head beginning to ache. He followed his cousin, turning slightly at the door to face Isis._

"_Good-bye Set." She said, her hands in her lap, the white dress folding and creating creases. It stopped near her mid calves, and he viewed the round, shiny golden bangles around her ankles. The sunlight wafted in from the chiseled windows, illuminating the edges of her face, and throwing a dim shadow on the east wall. Right then and there, something tugged inside his chest, **hard**._

He rose, panting. Seto climbed off her bed, struggling to get up. To his right, Ischizu mumbled something in her sleep and faced him. If only he could strip those clothes off her, and taste those shoulders, those small shoulders. His chest pounded, his heart beating wildly. Ischizu was beginning to stir, and he immediately exited the room, locking the door behind him. A faint melody played in the living room, and déjà vu flooded his mind. Bringing his fingers to his temples, he realized his temperature was colder than usual. Mokuba lay on his stomach on the floor of the living room, typing away something at his laptop. Bringing his towel to dry his hair, he entered the living room, sitting cross-legged opposite from his younger brother. _Good, something to distract me_.

"Come here," he said, gently. Mokuba looked up from his typing and saw the softened look in his brother's eyes; he hopped into his brother's lap. Seto's body was warm, but his hands were cold, the fingertips icily reaching into his hair. Now Kaiba had encircled his arms around his sibling. Mokuba faced away from his brother and reached for the laptop, and flipped it open, placing it snugly above his legs. Seto looked above his brother's shoulder and viewed what his brother was currently looking at.

"A lotus?" Seto questioned, his head gently nudging his brother's head to move a little to the right so he could see better. Mokuba ducked his head, and held up the laptop so that the screen was right in front of Kaiba's face. Seto immediately took it from him, placing it on the floor, hunched over Mokuba's small frame to start typing. The lotus? He was sure he'd seen one in Ischizu's room earlier. Or in his dream. He wasn't sure which, and it was beginning to frustrate him and invade his mind in the small, idle moments that he had. A hand reached up to touch the screen and pointed to the flower's star shaped petals.

"Yeah, Ischizu showed it to me. She says it's her favorite flower and wanted to grow it, but the soil in Egypt is only fertile along the Nile." Mokuba said knowledgeably. He could feel his Brother's bare chest sink in from inhaling. Seto's shoulders then brushed against his shirt, one wrapping around him protectively. A sudden thought began to turn its way over in his mind, and it sunk in, protruding from pieces of evidence he'd been mentally collecting during his stay.

"It would be somewhat difficult to obtain this flower, especially in this part of the town, right?" Seto asked, his hand now touching his forehead. He was quite sure he'd seen one, and if it only grew along the Nile, it would be unlikely that Ischizu had gone all the way there just for a single flower. The thought began to mutate into other possibilities. Mokuba folded his arms, the top of his head bristling against his older brother's neck.

"It's unlikely this flower even grew here. The lotus isn't exactly an Egyptian flower." Mokuba reasoned. He removed his brother's arm from around his waist and got up, examining the laptop screen. A silent tension hung in the air. Seto didn't think that the lotus in Ischizu's room was important- it was a flower, just a flower. It had no significance, no importance at all. But why did it continue to bother him, and the dulling ache remerging every time he was around her or that flower. He didn't believe in the supernatural, and he wouldn't start now. It was just a stupid flower. Just a stupid flower.

"I saw one in Ischizu's room, I think," Mokuba piped up. "I found it strange, so I looked it up. I think it stands for marriage, because a lot of people in Egypt used to arrange marriages for their children and when the time was right, would send a lotus to the person that their child would marry." Something flickered in Seto's eyes, but the feeling sank, drowning amidst the chaos that swirled inside of him. The faint melody had ceased; it was the sound of a carousel in those amusement parks that Mokuba would drag him to. The back door of the kitchen could be heard opening from the side, and it was apparent that one of the Ishtar's had returned home. Marik briskly walked into the living room, greeted them, and quickly disappeared into the shadows of the hallway. Seto saw his brother's blank look at the laptop screen.

"We are going home tomorrow," Seto said, running his knuckles down his other arm. Immediately Mokuba jerked back and scowled at him. He sighed, leaning down to kiss Mokuba's forehead when he turned his face to the side.

"That's not fair, Seto, it's not," Mokuba said, pushing his brother's hands away. "This happens every time. We've been here three days. How many days off have we _ever_ taken in an entire work year? We don't even take _Christmas_ off," Mokuba said, his bottom lip quivering. It all made sense, and every year, Seto would refuse to take a day off. Sometimes Mokuba would come home from school and his brother would not be at home until 10 or 11 o'clock. He would wait, and then he'd call his older brother, and beg him to come home. Seto would argue, saying that he needed to get his work finished. Work. Work. Work. At least that was what Mokuba would think, sinking into a cold bed, in an empty mansion.

"Mokuba, we can't be playing around. There's a meeting in two days.." Seto was cut off as his brother rose to his feet, his dark brown eyes blazing. His brother's small body tightened, tensing up with clenched fists.

"A meeting that _you_ scheduled! I checked your planner, Seto. You rescheduled it from next week to this week!" Gasoline that had been left, neglected in Mokuba's heart, began to rise in flames from the sparks of his brother's inconsiderate nature.

"Mokuba!" Seto scolded him, and immediately Mokuba sat down, his hands fidgeting. Rebellion blossomed in his young, adolescent heart. His brother was oppressing him, keeping him from growing from mistakes. He wanted to keep his younger brother away from the exposure he had been born with. The death of his mother had been hid, safely away in a neat drawer in Seto's heart. Never to be discussed again. The melody from the carousel returned, plaguing Mokuba. A soft, humming melody. _Father. He loved carousels._ A soft whimper rose from Mokuba's form, as he hunched his back away from the couch. 4

"Unless you are dying and are in dire need of medical assistance, we are leaving _tomorrow_." The firm, business tone, once again. Not the fatherly one, as he would gently caress his hair. Not the brotherly one as he would kiss his forehead in the park.

The melody was loud, too loud. It grew and expanded as his brother continued to neglect him. He wanted love, not protection. _Love_. It was a faint, almost childlike request. He wanted to envelope Seto with his wide, expanse of love. It was like a field, and it grew as time went on. But now Seto was neglecting that field, the flowers were crippling, and Mokuba struggled to obey his every whim. No longer would the flowers bloom. On the eve of his father's death, that field stood still, the wind no longer blew. But now it wasn't necessary. The flowers would continue to ripple in the wind; some would bend and turn underneath the undying pressure. 5

"No! You treat me as a child, as if my opinion doesn't matter at all! I love you Seto, but sometimes I don't think you feel the same way!" With this, he sobbed into his brother's chest, letting the cathartic tears flow freely in threadlike rivulets down his cheeks. 6 A whisper of freedom, that's all he needed. His brother's warm body was a refuge, a silent sanctuary. Seto would keep quiet, he'd talk, and their relationship was complementary in that sense. He clung onto his brother, the kind one, the one who smiled and kissed him. _I love you, no matter how much you hate me_.

"Why do you think like that?" was the warm, gentle voice now. It always became gentle after they would fight. They'd argue and argue and argue. And the younger would always crack, by either crying or getting angry. They'd let loose all their fears and for a little while, both of their emotions were plainly seen. Seto curled his arm around his younger brother's bottom, cradling him. The melody was fading, the soft clinking of chimes was known only in the distance. Looping his arms around him, he sunk his head into his younger brother's hair.

"I don't know, I don't know," Mokuba sniffled, curling his small fingers around his brother's strong neck. "I'm sorry that I'm such a crybaby. I'm almost thirteen and I still cry all the time-" " His eyebrows creased, and he let the tears keep coming. Seto pushed back his dark locks and kissed his forehead. A gentle, reassuring caress followed, and soon, he was wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. Seto handed him a handkerchief, and Mokuba wiped rigorously at his cheeks and up and around his eyes.

"Go wash up," Seto said, and kissed him again. _Brother!_ Mokuba thought faintly, and bounded out of the protection of his arms and into the hallway to the bathroom. He could hear footsteps nearing towards him, lighter and more uniform than Mokuba's. Seto snapped the laptop screen shut, and rose to face Ischizu. Her small footsteps had alerted him, her hands folded neatly around the shirt that he had left in her room. Her golden bangles on her wrists shimmered in the damp, humid light of the living room.

"Seto, you forgot your shirt," she said plainly, as she tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. Ischizu handed him the cloth shirt over to him, and he snatched it from her hands a little too fast. He wrapped it around himself, and buttoned it up to the second-highest button. He was taken aback when a hand reached up, so subtly, to brush away some locks, and then touch his cheek. She furrowed her eyebrows with concern, and brought her hand back to examine it.

"It's bleeding. You should know that bleeding that occurs on the face does not stop immediately," she said, knowledgeably. He shrunk back from her touch, and decided to follow her into her room where she rummaged through the drawers to find her first aid kit. He stood, his fingers wiping the blood from the razor cut on his cheekbone. As she pulled out items, she placed a crumpled lotus flower on the dresser absentmindedly. He immediately took it up from her dresser and curled his fist around it, crushing the already crippled flower.

"Where did you get this?" He said, his voice on a strange tone he had not believed he could manage. It was almost polite. He unpried his fingers to give her full view of the crushed pink lotus. It was a strange, odd flower. It was neither beautiful nor ugly. It was an ordinary flower, nothing significant making it stand out from other flowers that Seto had encountered in his life. Then again, he found plants utterly useless. They were a continuous time-sink; stealing away time from gardeners. They were weak on their own, and would die the second they were not pampered. He utterly abhorred them. 7

"It is not important," she murmured, as she failed to find the first aid kit. She now traversed over the carpet to the bathroom, where she located her desired item. Ischizu pulled out an almost transparent bandage and some sterilizing liquid. A ripple of strength extended from Seto's upper arm to the tips of his fingers. He unhooked his fingers from the crushed lotus, placing the dislocated flower on her dresser once again. She busily poured the sterilizing liquid from the white bottle to a piece of guaze-like material.

"Most people would be..happy if they received a lotus. It is traditionally an optimistic symbol," she said, gently. Seto had taken his place on the foot of her bed, where she scooted towards him, taking a moderate, clean swipe on the cut. He repelled from her nursing, turning his face to the side. The liquid ran down his cheekbone, and he quickly disposed of it with his sleeve. A gentle rapping sound had come from the wind blowing from outside. She closed the windows, and pulled his chin up to face her. It was a strange, compromising position. She cleaned his wound, as a nurse to a fallen soldier. His hands moistened considerably at his sides. Seto wiped them impatiently on the wool blanket.

"And most people would be overjoyed at the prospect of marriage," she began again, this time dousing his wound with more sterile liquid. The cut was beginning to become bothersome. Seto now held her wrist firmly, pushing her hand away and at the same time demanding answers. She ignored his refusal of aid and leaned forward, pulling the wax strip from the back of the band-aid and applying the clear, round, sticky, paper-like object on his cheekbone. The windows banged hard as the wind burst through the thick layer of trees outside. A chill ran up Seto's spine, and his fingers went up to touch the band-aid. A strange coolness emanated from it.

"Then what's the problem?" He literally snapped at her, his hands now wiping fervently at the sides of his leather pants to rid his hands of moisture. This went unnoticed by Ischizu. She had resigned from fidgeting nervously. Ischizu sat, with one leg under her, her hands busily putting away the first aid items back in the rectangular-shaped box. A soft sigh erupted from her.

"I am not like most people," she said, her voice obtaining a position of strength. He rose from her bed, and strangely enough, propped his back against her dresser, facing her. It was not that he needed conversation, or desired it. He sought refuge in the bliss of words and sentences and strewn together paragraphs and recollections. He hated sound, and he loved it. Seto would seek sanctuary in the strong fortitude of words. 8 Folding his arms across his chest, he viewed her as she went into the corner of the room to place the kit back in its original location.

"That's because most people don't live in the past and spew forth ridiculous nonsense all the time." He said, as politely as he could. She stood up, her eyes ablaze.

"You would not even begin to fathom the situation that I am in!" Her voice quivered at the end, and it had a childlike quality to it.

"What sort of situation!" He said, almost as if he didn't believe her outlandish outburst. It was strange talking to her. And at the same time, it was pleasant. Bitter. It reminded him of bitterness. A strange entrancing quality was attached to the bitterness that hung suspenseful, in the air. It dangled on two, invisible threads, each dangerously dipping close to falling to the floor.

"I am getting married to a man whom I do not love!" She nearly yelled out, her face returning to her hands, her hopeless, wretched figure distraught, stretched tight with tension. Wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands, she looked at up at him distraught. His legs had uncrossed, his arms now dangling at his sides. Her small chest rose and fell quicker.

"I don't have sympathy for you," he said, his eyes now flickering up and down her frame. A faint click was heard down the hallway. Her eyes glimmered with traces of sparkling tears. "It's for the weak." He emphasized the word 'weak', and a lone sob racked her slender body. She gulped the enormous lump that had been forming in her throat, and turned away from him.

"I did not expect any," she said, her voice gaining stability. She sniffled a little, not allowing her face to be seen by him. He advanced towards her, turning her around roughly by his arm. He leaned his body close to hers, his hand pinning her to the foot of the bed. He tilted her chin towards him.

"Then what_ did_ you expect?" He asked huskily, the warm quality of his voice exciting her. It tickled her neck and ran chills around her shoulders. It had obtained a tender, soft quality that was foreign to him. He wanted answers. He wanted to rid of all of his weaknesses, now. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she turned her head to the side. _Get rid of this weakness_, he mentally echoed.

"Nothing at all." She said, jerking her head back from his touch. Ischizu stared intently at the lotus, wishing for once that it would disappear into the cracks and shadows of her room. His hand had not removed itself from its place next to her hip. His lean body moved forward, forcing her to be pushed against the soft fabric of her blankets. Ischizu's hand darted up to lift herself up, but he did not budge. If she fully got up and stood at full height, she'd be slammed against his body. She arched her back to fit snugly against the nook of her bed.

"Sometimes, th-they're, I mean, s-so fast, we're in s-such compromising p-positions," 9 She managed to choke out, and he leaned forward, his hand now resting on her slim waist. It was more like he was holding her down rather than holding her romantically, she thought frantically, pushing ideas and memories out of her mind. She remembered Egypt, and Priest Set, and suddenly things were flashing in and out of her mind like channels on cable television. Images flashed one after another, Priest Set, the baths, Seto-

"You are a weakness, Ischizu," he said firmly, as he pinned her to the bed, "and you already know what I think of weaknesses."

**AUTHOR NOTE**

  
This chapter utilizes a "cliffhanger"! Yay! Okay, now for the references notes and quirky things in the text that you can find defined here. If you can't find the numbers, go to 'Find' and type in a number. There are only seven of them, and they're little easter eggs for my sweet, wonderful readers.

**EASTER EGGS**

**1** Okay, I know this contradicts what I said last chapter, since Kaiba changes his clothes. But _don't_ worry, it's not the main chunk of text, and I only found out the problem with this after I was done with more than 2/3 of the text. There was no way I was going back and changing the text. Sorry about such an amateur mistake, but this is about my only longest serious fiction piece in a long while. Also, he is wearing two belts because it's fashionable, not that it's weird. Think Squall Leonheart from Final Fantasy 8, and it's _exactly_ what he's wearing. If you don't know who he is, or what he looks like, type it up in Google Image Search.

**2** I totally stole this from another fanfiction work by another trustshipping author. To be honest, it was a subconscious stealing, and I'm sorry I totally ripped it off. I truly didn't mean to, and when I get to editing this chapter, it _will_ be removed, so no worries.

**3** I really didn't want to put too much graphic stuff in this chapter, or in this entire work, but when I was writing it, it seemed to fit. For one, if you think about it, it describes his _nakedness_ to life, how his emotions can be easily stirred and affected, even though he doesn't let others know about it. When I wrote this paragraph, I thought critically about what it would do to represent Kaiba, not just for pure fun. Sorry to the people who don't like graphic content.

**4** Okay for people who are totally confused, there is _no_ melody. This is in Kaiba and Mokuba's heads. I wanted it to relate to how their relationship was torn away from them, drifting off, never to be seen again. Notice how nobody else can hear the melody save for these two? Well put two and two together. This is entirely in their heads.

**5** The metaphor is weird and strange, but I don't give a hoot. I think I portray a very _good_ Mokuba, a much more decent one than most fanfiction display him as. He's not too mischievous, and he's not too kiddy. To tell you the truth, I put him too adult-like in the section with him and the reporters. Here I'm displaying his softer, weak side. I really like the usage of the 'field of flowers'. I can almost imagine those flowers rippling in the wind.

**6** Reference to A Tidewater Morning by William Styron. If you haven't read it yet, you should, since it's a great book. That's where I blatantly stole the 'cathartic tears' part from.

**7** I really thought this is what Seto felt about flowers. It matched his personality, and no, this isn't how he really feels about flowers, I just made it up, like the part about their father liking carousels.

**8** I know that a lot of people would disagree on the whole 'sound' issue, but to be honest I really do think he'd sink himself in words to escape reality at times. Even though Seto seems like a down to earth person, he also seems like the person that would outright deny things if they were beyond his scope of belief. For example, the whole Egypt issue. It's ludicrous to him mainly because he has never believed in such a thing in his life.

**9** Ripped off of A Streetcar Named Desire, which is also a great book. Read it if you have the chance, or like reading, but there's a movie out, and you should definitely read it. I stole the line ..'Sometimes, so fast.." from a character named Blanche in the book.

Also, I put in some parts about Seto in highschool because I felt that neither the anime or manga talked much about it at all. Plus it's totally unfair since they only had one episode with him in school, and half the time I wished that they would show another highschool episode.

**EXPLANATION OF SORTS?**

Also, a lot of people don't understand the whole 'lotus' and 'aching' thing. I'll hopefully clear it up for you, even though I didn't intend to do this from the beginning. Seto is using anti-depressants, and you know this because he gets really defensive about the newspaper. Second, you _know_ Ischizu is suffering from clinical depression because she is getting married to someone whom she doesn't _know_ or like. The lotus represents a prison for her. For Mokuba and Kaiba, it's just a flower that means marriage. Of course, Kaiba gets closer to the true meaning of it early on, but still, he doesn't full understand her situation.

You can tell that she doesn't know the guy she's marrying because arranged marriages do not normally have the two get together. The whole Mokuba being sad bit is because his brother is treating him like a child and not letting him do the things he wants to do. Duke, in the last chapter, was the _closest_ thing Kaiba had to a friend, and even then, Kaiba chose to run away from his problems. Marik represents a person who is stuck; his older sister is in love with a Japanese man whom _he_ thinks she barely even knows.

About the ancient Egypt bits..normally, I don't like this in fanfiction, but I thought it'd be helpful since Ischizu doesn't know Kaiba that well, _but_ she can associate him with Priest Set, who his alike him in many ways. But do remember – Priest Set was in many aspects different from the egotistic Kaiba that we all know and love. Basically, Set coming to Atemu's palace was made-up, but I do think it's entirely plausible in many senses.

**ABOUT THE NEXT CHAPTER**

Okay, that's about it. I'll put at least five **_hidden_ **easter eggs in the next one. If you can explain them, you get a cookie. Hopefully I can squeeze in Rebecca and Duke in the next chapter, if I get that far. The next chapter, by the way, will take some time, since this chapter was long as heck, (82KB without the author notes and easter eggs) Anyway, I haven't been getting too many reviews, and so be kind and review! Don't be scared about hurting my feelings, because hey, I get it all the time, besides, I wouldn't be a writer if I couldn't take criticism. Read and review, kids!


	5. Perseverance

**AN**: This chapter will hopefully continue in the footsteps of its predecessor. There is fluffy Mokuba/Rebecca or Kiddyshipping in here. Hope you like it! I loved the last chapter, and hope to make this one just as great, if not better. This one is less detailed since the other one had too _many_ details. Hopefully this will make a better read. Read and review kids, and remember, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Some minor graphic sexual references. One make-out scene. Other than that, it's pretty clean. Also, sorry, but no easter eggs because one of my readers thought that the numbers were annoying, and when I look back, they kinda were. So here it is, minus the easter eggs. Less thick paragraphs, but juicy Seto / Isis action. Read and review!

**c h a p t e r s e v e n**

p e r s e v e r a n c e

"Sometimes, th-they're, I mean, s-so fast, we're in s-such compromising p-positions," She managed to choke out, and he leaned forward, his hand now resting on her slim waist. It was more like he was holding her down rather than holding her romantically, she thought frantically, pushing ideas and memories out of her mind. She remembered Egypt, and Priest Set, and suddenly things were flashing in and out of her mind like channels on cable television. Images flashed one after another, Priest Set, the baths, Seto, Battle City, her duel, etc.

"You are a weakness, Ischizu," he said firmly, as he pinned her to the bed, "and you already know what I think of weaknesses." He slid his hand firmly underneath her, almost as if to cradle her. Her hands trembled terribly at her sides, unknown to what was to happen to her. He leaned dangerously close, and then let her go. Seto smirked, going to the door and locking it. She composed her self half-decently and her frail frame shook violently on the bed. Seto watched this figure of weakness shake in his presence.

"Seto, I do not understand," She quipped, but inside she yearned for him. There was this terrible yawning feeling inside of her that could only be relieved by him. Seto returned to his original position above her, his hands located sternly at her sides. She crumpled underneath him, her weakness spreading much like a contagious disease. Her lips quivered from his touch. His hands, they were rough and warm. She could feel them pass over her waist slightly as he had locked her in place.

"Neither do I," he said, his hand coming out to touch her cheek. She let out a contented moan, her knees struggling to draw up closer to her chest. Seto had used his knees to keep them in place. He looked at her curiously, his finger tracing her lips. Her eyes were wide, vast expanses of blue. Seto looked at the features, studying her facial definitions diligently. He brought her face up to his, millimeters away from his mouth. She could feel him itching to touch her, his hands fidgeting terribly at her sides, as his anticipation grew considerably with each second that passed by.

"Kiss me," she whispered, and watched him gently tug her upward, into a warm, tender kiss. His mouth created a seal over hers, his tongue probing the insides of her mouth. His tongue dominated hers, pushing it into the back of her mouth, and taking control. Seto sucked her bottom lip, and then his soft tongue proceeded in her mouth again and again. Soon afterwards, they peeled apart. She gasped on the bed, bringing a hand up to her chest to feel it rise and fall faster and faster. Seto touched his mouth, brought his hand to his side and watched, perhaps in awe at what he had done. A dark specter entered his mind, telling him it was wrong to do so. He stood now, feeling the immediate regret of his actions. Ischizu looked at him with a confused expression.

"It was a mistake," he said acidly, swallowing the lump in his throat. Ischizu nodded obediently, smoothing out her dress and dusting herself off. She got up off the bed and in front of him, approaching the door. Her hands shook as they unlocked it. _But why?_ She struggled to block out what had just happened from her mind, the sweet, soapy clean smell of him, his messy hair strewn on his face. Why couldn't she shrug it out of her system? _Why_? She held back tears that stung her eyes.

"Forget this," he threw out to her on his way out. She closed her eyes, collapsing on the bed in utter loneliness. For a few minutes of her life, she had felt loved by someone other than her brother. For a while, she could block out the fact that she was getting married to a stranger and think about the person that she liked and desired without being angry at herself for it. For a few seconds in his life, Seto Kaiba was human.

She sobbed to her heart's content, allowing tears to wet her white pillow. Work, she remembered. _I have to finish up my work_. She mumbled, wiping her eyes with the length of her arms. Ischizu wiped her mouth with the back of her hands, the sweet saliva drying up on her skin. That was his; it was his mouth, on hers. And as long as she'd remember, she belonged to Seto, even if it was only for a little while. Choking back another tidal wave of sobs, she rushed to the bathroom to clean herself up.

Outside, Seto stood outside her door, momentarily glancing in both directions. It was strange, to his dissatisfaction; there stood her brother, tall, and his blond hair almost as angry as he. He stood with his legs slightly apart, his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as he saw Seto, he unhooked his arms from each other and pointed accusingly at him.

"What were you doing in there?" He questioned, his eyes ablaze. _They were just talking_. _They were just talking. I know they were._ But he knew Ischizu. The arranged marriage had devastated her. After their disgusting father sold his daughter off to some stranger, she sat quietly next to the boy she was to be wed with. After the agreement was over, Ischizu was quiet in the car, her small hands folded neatly in her lap. It was not until nighttime that she cried the entire day's tears. Marik had approached her, kissing her cheek and reassuring her that it would be all right. But he had been lying. There was no way out of the marriage, and he knew full well.

"I came here for a reason, and I chose to discuss the previously mentioned matters with her," he said coolly. Marik eyed him suspiciously, but then retired to his room, collapsing on his smooth bed. He knew how Ischizu felt for Seto. She would glance at him gently, with her soft-eyed look. She would always be kind to him, call him by his first name, and even do what he said. She was in love with him, that Japanese man that she was so fond of. Marik's mouth twisted into confusion. He'd rather have had Seto be with his sister than anyone else, but under the circumstances that she was to be wed by next month, he knew that he had to make sure Seto kept his distance so that Ischizu did not fall to temptation. Raising a hand to his forehead, he knew that her marriage was the biggest thing on his mind.

Seto walked out of the hallway and into the living room. He propped up himself up against the sofa, sliding his hand into his jeans to retrieve his cellphone. Mokuba had collapsed once again on the other end, sleeping like a child would. Kaiba lifted Mokuba off his dangerous position that had been teetering off the sofa onto his chest. The boy had had enough arguments for the day and was clearly tired. With one hand securely around Mokuba, Seto phoned the company to make sure things were doing okay.

"Hello, Roland? Any new clients lately? I want all my messages from my secretary to be sent via email," Kaiba said sternly, resting his head onto a sofa cushion. Using his eyes as a telescope, he saw Ischizu exit the room, avoid his eyes and turn directly into the kitchen. _It was idiotic to fall to weaknesses. Weaknesses only get in the way_. He half-listened to Roland give a brief summary that was not so brief and a report about the current status. When Roland mentioned Duke's name, Kaiba jolted from his semi-decent listening.

"What's he doing on the client list? I told him there was to be no more financial assistance from Kaiba Corp!" Kaiba barked into the phone. Mokuba stirred gently on top of him. Clicking his call off from the company, he punched in Duke's number. _I told that swindler no more aid from us, and he squeezes us for more?_! Kaiba could feel his head beginning to ache again. He reminded himself to visit his doctor as soon as he got back to Japan.

"Hey Kaiba," The cool voice on the other end quipped, and he could hear faint laughter on the other end. He couldn't stand Duke, and he could stand him. He liked him better than Yuugi's friends, of course, but then again, that wasn't much either. Duke shared the same kind of lifestyle, but he handled it differently than him. _He doesn't take anti-depressants_, Kaiba muttered mentally. He clenched the phone tighter. Duke seemed nothing but childish and everything he wasn't.

"Look, I heard you're on my client list, and there is no-" Kaiba was cut off as he heard Duke laugh. _What could be so funny!_ He finally heard Duke recompose himself, and shouting in the background. Kaiba shook his head. He was completely unprofessional. Sure, Duke was praised for having a very good CEO attitude, as well as social life, while Kaiba was mocked for his. He remembered the newspaper stand and their moronic article on him.

"That was just to get your attention. My company's holding a conference meeting at the Cairo Hotel tomorrow, and I was hoping you would come," Duke said, in the most coaxing voice he could. He had to convince Kaiba to go, whether or not he wanted to. Really, he could care less whether Kaiba attended a conference meeting. He genuinely cared about Kaiba to a certain extent, so much that he'd invite him to something he didn't give half a damn about just to talk to him.

"I'm leaving for Japan tomorrow," Kaiba said, icily. Mokuba stirred on top of him. He sighed. He'd have to deal with Mokuba later. For now, he could assure that he'd be leaving tomorrow. A certain ache made its way into his chest as he thought of Ischizu gently smiling at him, with her usual politeness and cool, distanced manner. It was best to leave as soon as possible. He couldn't let his skirmish with Ischizu hold him back from company business.

"I called your company and they said that there weren't going to be any meetings tomorrow," Duke said suavely.

"Who told you that?" Kaiba questioned, suddenly suspicious. Roland would've told him if the company wasn't going to be holding a meeting tomorrow. But then again, he was half-listening. Perhaps he'd missed something important? No, there couldn't be. Duke was just blatantly lying. He had to be. Seto heard faint sounds of the kitchen, as if Ischizu was beginning to cook. _Cooking_, he thought, _only the chef makes the stuff at home_. Home. The word felt metallic and strange in his mouth.

"Your secretary. That was of course, after I got a date with her," Duke chuckled, and Kaiba wanted to strangle him. Mokuba got up, rubbing his eyes childishly. He leaned against Kaiba's chest, content with his brother's heartbeat and the ability to eavesdrop on his older brother's conversation. Nudging his head into the nook of his brother's neck, he smelled him, It was a clean, soapy smell. But there was another scent, as well. Lilacs. _Lilacs?_ That's..odd. Mokuba twisted his face into confusion. He was sure his brother didn't wear lilac perfume.

"I'm going to check with Roland," Kaiba lied, knowing that he really did not want to talk with anyone at the company at this moment. He really had no intentions, and then again, if Roland _had_ told him, he would make himself look like a total idiot by asking him something that was already said. Mokuba thought quickly. Who wore lilac perfume? He knew he had smelled this on someone else. _Was it Ischizu?_ He thought deeply. But why would his brother have Ischizu's fragrance on him?

"Do whatever you want, but if you're coming, it's at 7:00 tomorrow, and you have to bring somebody to dance with," Duke added quickly, as he could sense Kaiba's patience was beginning to snap. Mokuba listened in closer, realizing that Duke was inviting them to some sort of meeting. He sighed, as he remembered he had promised to meet Rebecca in two days; _they_ had planned a meeting as well. Of course, Kaiba had not necessarily known all the intentions.

Mokuba snickered inwardly as he remembered his meeting with Rebecca in the park. She had been wearing a pink dress, lip gloss smeared over her lips. It was then, after he had bought her an ice cream cone, he finished with his ice cream early. After they were done innocently eating ice cream, they sat down under a tree. It was then he had received his first kiss. He had leaned in, a faint memory of Rebecca's cherry lip gloss. It had tasted good, and so had the kiss. Rebecca had smiled at him afterwards, indicating that they were 'going out'.

"Is this a party or a meeting?" Kaiba demanded, and Mokuba immediately perked up at the word 'party'. Stealing the phone from his brother, he leaped off his elder brother's chest and ran into the kitchen. Sitting comfortably in one of the kitchen chairs, he smiled. He liked Duke, especially since he was his brother's 'friend'. Or the closest thing to it. He didn't understand why his brother was so cold to him, but he wanted things to get better.

"We'll be there, Duke! You can count on it," Mokuba assured, leaning back into one of the kitchen chairs. Ischizu turned around to see the younger Kaiba with a grin pasted on his face. He looked like a child who had just inherited a million dollars. Of course, she probably guessed he already had, but that's what he looked like.

"Okay, squirt. See ya there." Duke clicked the phone. Smiling, Mokuba tucked the phone, palming it in his fingers. Looking up, he saw his brother's towering shadow cast on him. He smiled sheepishly, holding out the phone with immediate awkwardness. Seto snatched it from him and folded it into his pocket. Ischizu turned around, announcing dinner was ready. Mokuba got up to go wash his hands while Seto stood in the room, awkwardly. His eyes followed her figure, from her calves, to her thighs, the junction of her legs, her hips, her small waist, and then her breasts. He breathed in and out, trying to control unknown wild desires. He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. _Stop_,_ now._

The desires took over as he leaned forward, pressing the front of his body against the back of hers. She shivered, immediately turning around. Dropping the spoon that was in her hand, she faced him. His legs spread slightly apart, and his hand immediately reached for her neck. He wanted to touch the smoothness of it, feel it against his fingers. She shook her head, but made no sound, almost as if her voice had become stuck in her throat. It was then that he jolted out his hand to her blouse, fidgeting with the buttons.

"Seto," she said a little weakly, as she began to protest, she shrugged out of his grip. "I do not believe this is healthy for you," she edged away from him. Knowing full well the consequences of such a relationship, she turned back around to continue stirring the rice, now adding different ingredients. He leaned back away from her, sitting down now, angry at himself for being such a fool. _Idiot. Only idiots have weaknesses_. He crushed his desires in the palm of his hand and remained composed for the rest of the meal. She sat down, next to him, scooping rice into her plate with a spoon. He did the same, but he pushed the rice around his plate to make it look like he was eating. Mokuba appeared later, noticing the silence between Ischizu and his older brother. The rest of the meal went by without a word.

"Wake up," she said softly the next morning, as she appeared in a sunny white summer dress, crouching down to touch his arm as stirred in his sleep. The dress did not look so misplaced on her anymore. It fit her perfectly, the white complementing her innocent personality. The ridiculous straw hat was still on her head, and she kept it on with one hand as she got up from her sitting position. Smoothing out her dress, she spoke softly to him. "We're going to have a picnic. Mokuba and I decided this last night when you went to sleep." She'd curled her hair, and the locks cascaded up and around her shoulders.

Murmuring out of his sleep, he rose, got up to the bathroom to wash his face. As he brushed his teeth, he noticed a corner of the band-aid lift up. Picking at the corner with his finger, he peeled it off his skin, to reveal a healed cut. There was only a faint, red line where the cut was. That was strange. Rinsing his mouth, he reached for the small closet in the corner of the room. His trenchcoat was in the wash and so were his other clothes. Mokuba peeked in his room momentarily with a sheepish smile.

"Seto, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier." He brushed the wall with his left hand before plopping down on the bed. Seto continued to button up his shirt, facing the narrow mirror that stood vertically against the wall. Taking a comb from the dresser, he began to comb his hair neatly into place. Mokuba sighed, plopping over on his stomach and burying his head into the soft mattress. "It's fine. Remember to keep your word with Duke, then." Seto said complacently as he smoothed out his pants. "I promised Rebecca we'd meet her on Friday, too." Mokuba said worriedly. Seto turned around to face him, his fingers obviously struggling to make his tie.

"Here, lemme do it." Mokuba stood up on the bed to reach his brother's height. His small fingers wrapped around the tie, looping the thick end through the knot and creating a perfect tie. He loosened it a bit, to create a more casual look, and then fixed his elder brother's collar. Then, mischievously he rumpled his brother's hair quickly. With a sigh, Seto glared at him, trying to fix his hair and then giving up. "We are just wasting our time here." Seto said, placing the black, plastic comb back on the dresser. Mokuba frowned, plopping back on the bed.

"Really? That's Ischizu's perfume on you." Mokuba looked up at him knowingly. It was then that Seto spun around, his hands moistening and wiping themselves on the sides of his pants. "You're grounded." Sighing, he flopped down on the bed. "You should take Ischizu to that party that Duke invited you to." Seto narrowed his eyes, narrowing them so far as to create thin slits. "Fine, sorry." Mokuba dug into the pillow now. "I like Ischizu. I do. I wish we could have her around all the time." The younger Kaiba mumbled, a little sadly. "Well we're leaving soon, so don't get attached." Seto said, combing his hair with his fingers now. "But Ischizu is-" Mokuba was cut off as Ischizu appeared at the door, holding a neat pile of towels.

"I am what?" She questioned, touching the younger Kaiba's hair, and holding his cheek. Seto kept his back towards her. The tie had fallen loose and now he'd wrestled with it, pulling it away from his collar. "Nothing." Ischizu looked curiously from the younger to older Kaiba. It was then that she rose up, trying to get a good look at Seto, and he adversely looked away from her. "Let me, Seto. You look nice today." She smoothed out her hands down the front of his white shirt. "Let me fix this, all right?" After struggling a bit with the tie, he snatched it out of her hands and tossed it aside. "Actually, it looks better without it." She smiled, slightly. Mokuba looked at the both of them, standing in front of the dresser, with miles of emotional barriers between them.

"Mokuba, get my laptop. I need to check how the stocks of the company are doing." Seto broke the silence finally, directing his head towards Mokuba. Scampering off the bed, he slid across the carpet and into the hallway. Seto stood silently, leaning his slim body against the dresser. Ischizu had sat down on the bed, tilting her head slightly to the side as if she was curious. "Is there anything I should know?" Kaiba faced the mirror as she spoke, aligning and realigning his sunglasses on the opening of his shirt.

"It's none of your business." He said, pressing a hand back into his shoulder, and massaging it. He'd had neck pains ever since the plane ride, even though it had been just days ago. She sighed softly, letting the dark locks of curly hair roll down her back and up again. "I see." It was quiet, almost timid, had it been anyone but Ischizu. But it was firm from her. "I did some investigating of my own, about that article, in that newspaper. They were right. I saw the anti-depressants in your trenchcoat pockets before I put it into the wash." It was silent from his end of the conversation. He gripped the dresser end, his knuckles whitening considerably.

"Why did you lie?" She seemed naive and stupid all of a sudden to him, and he wanted to crush her. She had to pry into his business, poking her head in where she was not wanted. Was that true? Building up all along, he'd despised her ability to see right through him at times. It worked the same way for her; she'd seem so transparent, and he could see the finest details of her. "I didn't lie." He choked out now, closing his eyes and trying to maintain his neutral state. 10, 9, 8. "You could have told me." 7, 6, 5. "I am worried about you." 4, 3, 2. "Sometimes I feel that you are not okay, Seto. I just want you to be happy." 1. 0.

"Shut up!" He yelled suddenly, his shoulders twitching. "Stop prying into my life!" Seto swiveled around, his hands clenched desperately at his sides. Ischizu's small shoulders flinched from his outburst. "Seto, please." Her teeth bit down on her soft, pink glossy lip. "Shut up." It was a quieter, dangerous hiss. "I will not tell anyone." He let his back slide into a curved shape as he leaned over the dresser now. "Gosh." He heard her draw a breath inward, and then he felt the warm, inviting touch of hers. She had leaned her head against his back, and her hands curving around him. "Stop." It was a direct order to her, but she did not withdraw. She squeezed tighter, letting her cheek rest against the ridges of his spine. Finally, she faced his back, her warm mouth pressing against the cotton of the shirt. She closed her eyes now, trying to block out all the pieces of him that she wished that she never knew.

Ischizu felt the cold ripple of a shiver travel up his back. He had not heard her. It was made apparent by his reaction to her touch. He had missed her remark completely. She almost sighed a breath of relief until he clamped down on her wrist with his hands. Swinging her around in front of him, he pushed a hand up her dark curls. "Tell me," he hissed, "why you always get in my way." She frustratedly shook her head, as if she did not know. Then, she felt a twitch run up and around his arm, all the way to his shoulder. His eyes went from glassy and glaring to softened pools. "Tell me."

Letting out a whimper, she tried to struggle out of his grip. "Tell me why." She brushed away his hand, her smooth hands gliding against Japanese skin. It was then, she looked up at him, his cold, icy eyes returning to their usual demeanor, save for his strange behavior. The next thing Ischizu knew, Seto glided his head into the recess of her neck, his lips tantalizing her virgin body. His kisses were rough, and coarse, and she remembered feeling euphoria rush to her head.

"Stop," she remembered crying out, resisting by turning away her head. There was his mouth, traveling against a smooth collarbone that she remembered moaning to. Ischizu let out a deep moan, her insides trembling in fear. She weakly held his face in her hands, thrusting it away from her. "No, Seto. I am not –" She felt his head back away from her, hovering slightly above her now, and then crawling into a more comfortable position. He rose, angrily now, wiping his mouth with his arm.

"You're an incompetent fool, Ischizu. That's what you are." He said acidly, his eyes turning into thin slits. "And I want nothing more than to get rid of you." A shiver racked against her body, and she remembered collapsing to the floor. _How did it become like this? _She smoothed out her pretty, white summer dress. Seto stood near the doorway, examining her innocence. He'd wanted to tear it off her and ravage her. But he was cool, and calm. Once in a while Kaiba let out his emotions, and abruptly he locked them away, rarely seen again. She'd seen too much of him now. He'd have to take care of the witness to this terrible sin. He watched her small arm come up to wipe her eyes.

On his way out, he threw back to her, "Hurry up, then. We're leaving for your idiotic picnic." Mokuba came in at this instant, in the hallway, and the childish chatter filled up the hallway, and sloshed their way into the cracks. She wanted to sob, but she couldn't, even if she wanted to, she wouldn't. Burnt up by the energy used on so-called frivolous matters, Ischizu rose, breaking the ice building in her room. Step by step, she exited, and she remembered a particular flower still left in her dresser. Tattered and crushed.

She remembered sitting against a tall, oak tree, aged with time. The plaid picnic spread was firmly underneath her, with Mokuba chomping on a sandwich opposite from her. Seto had contented himself with sitting on the other side of the tree, reading a book. Far away, they looked like a complete, happy family. Close up, they looked misplaced and rumpled. Mokuba was the only cheerful one throughout their conversations. The car ride to the park had been a long, silent one, save for Mokuba's chatter consisting of what he'd do once he got home. Ischizu felt her eyes beginning to lid, the heavy air causing her to become quite sleepy. Seto had put down the book and was now absorbed in his laptop, which he had brought with him.

The sun was high in the sky, and Mokuba had dozed off in Ischizu's lap, much to Seto's discontent. She rubbed the boy's head lovingly, as a mother would, and she saw Seto scoot over closer to her to make sure she didn't try anything funny on his brother. She gave him a warning look, almost as if she resented him watching over what she did to Mokuba. Mokuba and Ischizu's relationship had strengthened over the last few days, building upon trust and kindness. Seto typed furiously away on the laptop, and it was then that Ischizu set Mokuba comfortably aside so that he wouldn't get cricks in his neck when he woke up. Ischizu rose, her dress swishing at her ankles. She walked over in front of Seto, who was still working. She sat down comfortably in front of him.

Seto grew surprised when she pushed away his laptop. It'd been a dreadful afternoon, spent at the park. She was sick and tired of things being the way they were. Ischizu needed change. She'd had cravings of him since this morning when the incident took place. The cravings were becoming nearly unbearable now. She was skirting around flirtation with someone who was still technically a boy. She placed her legs underneath her, smoothing her dress out with her hand around her rear. Folding her hands in her lap, she watched him glare.

"What?" His words were like bullets; quick, concise, and painful. Ischizu leaned in, placing one hand on the laptop to keep him from taking it. Ischizu scooted to the small space between his legs, the space that was previously being used to hold the laptop in place on his legs. She leaned in a little, and then smiled, gently.

"I heard you have a dinner at Cairo Hotel today. Is Mr. Devlin going to be there?" She placed her hands on her knees, and together they looked like a couple. Ischizu played with the hem of her dress in front of her while she waited for Seto's answer.

"Don't call him Mr. Devlin. He doesn't deserve that respect." He shot, his fingers touching his collar somewhat nervously. Ischizu had advanced upon him, like a small kitten curling up against its master. He swallowed the lumps forming in his throat. Seto watched her glossy lips part to speak. He found it increasingly uncomfortable due to that morning's circumstances.

"As you wish. Are you going?" She skirted around what she really wanted to ask – Would he take her? Seto pushed his book aside, that had been strewn across his lap haphazardly. It was an economics guidebook, and right now he had been reading to criticize the author's short sightedness in business. He looked up at Ischizu, her green pools of eyes glassy.

"No. Devlin is a waste of time." He said, brushing his shirt out. It was then he felt a soft, small hand curl around his thigh. She'd scooted up so close that they were practically touching. He hadn't noticed it before, because she had gradually moved through their conversation. Taking a sharp breath inward, he pretended that there was no hand. Was she flaunting herself at him or was she concerned? He could not tell, and therefore, he refused to acknowledge its presence.

"It would be a nice break, would it not?" She commented, as she smoothly tucked strands of her behind her ear. Ischizu had removed her hand from his thigh once she had seen the apprehension on his face, and the tightening of his muscles.

"I don't take breaks." Seto said, and then added, "I wasted time here, but it will be compensated for." Her eyes softened, almost hurt that he found that the time here had been _wasted_. Egypt was her home, her birthplace, and her sanctuary. But she dreamed of Japan all the time, and the one Japanese man who lived there that meant much to her. Seto had not taken her seriously.

"I understand." She said, quietly. He saw her clamp her hands together behind her back. Looking up at him, she put on a weak smile. "My gentleman is coming today." As she said this, Seto could feel as if someone had punched him in the gut. He immediately felt a great, depressing sinking feeling in his sides and entire body. He tensed up, once again. He was unable to comprehend his body's strange reflexes.

"Whatever." He gave her a sideways glance as he plucked an apple that Ischizu had brought in the picnic basket. Clenching it tightly, Seto wished for it to explode. He saw his knuckles go white, and the strong muscles in his arm ripple underneath his shirt. There was a fierce anger, lurking inside of him, and he knew not how or why it functioned.

She was silent, suddenly. He hadn't said anything new. Ischizu concentrated on the blades of grass collected around the top of her hem. She picked up the pieces of the grass, and wished each piece of grass was a piece of her life. She began to tie them tightly together. A thin blade of grass twisted and tore as she tied it tightly. With a sigh, she dropped the blades of grass in her lap. She had been concentrating so hard that she had failed to notice what Kaiba had been up to.

He had pressed his palms flat against the grass around her, to meet her eye level. Keeping his balance, he secured one hand around her wrist. He jerked her forward. With a slight yelp, she fell onto his chest, her mouth crushed against his collarbone. She brought up one hand behind her to support herself up against him. The other rested dangerously and unintentionally on his shoulder. His grip was iron-tight as he held onto the hand that she had put on the grass.

She muffled a cry into his shirt. Seto had used one hand against the small of her back to hold her steady. "Don't toy with me." He said; dangerously close to a tone that she had not heard him use in a long time. As soon as she tried to move her head up, he slammed it against his chest once more. "You can't get away this time." Ischizu could feel the buttons of his white, collared shirt aligned to the middle of her body. She felt uncomfortable.

"I do not understand." He could feel the movement of her lips against his bare collarbone. It excited him, and he brought up a knee to trap her in his grasp. "You were toying with me, just now." He forced her head up so that their eyes never lost contact. She let out a struggled sigh that racked up her body and reverberated through her spine.

"I was not toying with you, Seto-" He'd sharply brought her head up, to check if she was lying. She wasn't, her innocence clasped in his hands. He could do what he wished with her. Scanning the area, he found no one to be in the slightest concern of what was happening.

"You're the only one who calls me that. How come?" Before she could say anymore, he slid a hand down her back and around her rear to smooth her dress out from underneath her. She trembled uncomfortably. Her body spasmed in his grasp.

"Because, I understood you disliked the name that you inherited from your father," She cried this out softer, trying to see if any of what she was saying was reaching him. His gaze lay unwavered. Had she been unsuccessful? "I w-was not toying with you. I did not..." Ischizu was cut off abruptly.

"I dislike liars." With a short gasp, she found that he had crushed her head against him with a hand behind her head, and nestled his head into her neck. He ran his nose up her neck, and as he had expected, she shivered and squirmed. With one smooth tug, he had pushed her dress strap on her left shoulder down her arm. Her shoulder was bare, the skin glistening in its tanned glory.

"My s-suitor is c-coming today. I cannot.." She let out a slick, tired sob into his chest. He took advantage of her moment of weakness by sliding his mouth down the profile of her neck and onto her shoulder. She was delicious, and he swallowed her wholesomely. Seto stretched his mouth over her shoulder. _This is what virgin tastes like_. He moaned inwardly, sucking on the skin. One hand firmly held her in place as he placed small, butterfly kisses up her jaw. Ischizu's right hand strongly grasped his neck, trying to push him back. She was too weak to push him away.

His fingers grasped the laces that held her dress in place. Seto's kisses were like rushed and feverish, as he navigated his way around her neck and between her shoulder blades. He sucked on her right shoulder blade, and then pulled her dress back over the spot. Kaiba pressed his hands around her waist to pull her up. He was now standing, his body lined against hers. The tree was perfect support for her back.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, as she struggled to keep her composure. The air tickled her bare shoulders. His kisses were rough and wild, unlike the soft and gentle kisses that she had imagined.

Ischizu could feel the coarse bark of the tree against her bare calves. Her dress had ridden up her legs. She realized that she was going to lose her innocence. Very soon, she'd be losing her virginity to Seto. If not now, then later at the home, and if not, then at some other time when he would find her alone. She rationalized, learning quickly that this was nothing like she had read in her romantic novels. In those novels the hero and the heroine would play out a perfectly scripted romance, with gentle love.

Seto crushed her flower petals of lips against his. He probed her mouth, his desperate, needy touch driving her insane. He was still a child. He was still a child. Her mind kept telling her to rationalize. Remain calm, cool and collected. No matter what would happen, she would need to keep her composure. Physically, Seto was attractive. But he was not the kind of person she could ever find herself with. _He's going to take me. He'll take it. Now._ She felt her heartbeat quicken. Ischizu failed to understand why she was excited at the same idea.

"You are a weakness, and you're in my way. I can't have that," He stopped to look at her before he continued to kiss her. Seto had pressed a hand on the right side of her face to keep her face from moving. Ischizu's hands fumbled at the bottom of his dark shirt, and then she felt them ride up his abdomen. The white-hot fire in her stomach licked the edges of her body. _Do something, Ischizu._ Her inner voice was being drowned out by Seto's kisses. The more he kissed and touched her, the less she felt in control. Parts of her body became numb and unresponsive to her struggle.

Breaking off a kiss, he gasped into her neck. "What's his name?" He breathed onto her shoulder. Ischizu shuddered in fear of what may happen if she gave him an illegitimate response. "Kaafi. His name is Kaafi." Ischizu found less comfort in anything less other than him, so she sank back onto the tree. He'd loosened his grip enough on her to let her slide against the bark. "What does he do for a living?" Kaiba asked her sharply, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"He's a business consultant," She choked out. He was, intelligent, smart and handsome. Marik had partially never argued upon the suitor because he was decent, and held his own. Kaiba, on the other hand, was much different than him. Kaafi, in front of everyone, was polite, respectful, and generous. But alone with her, he would say things that would scare her. She remembered..

_Ischizu leaned back on the dresser, her soft hands molding into each other. Marik strode into the room, observing his sister flit from corner to corner rearranging and organizing things in her room. Delving a hand into his pocket, Marik leaned against the doorframe. A deep, golden light emanated from the room's two, elongated windows. They glimmered everything in sight._

"_He's here. He wants to talk to you." Marik failed to notice her sister stiffen in spite of him. Ischizu got up slowly, rising and then turning around on one foot. She'd been trying to avoid a meeting with Kaafi. Ischizu had figured him out in her last few meetings. _

"_Fine. He can come in." She murmured, busily attending to a few books on the shelf of her mahogany bookcase. Marik nodded, leaving the room. She braced herself for her soon-to-be husband. _

"_Glad to see you again, beautiful." The man strode across the room to her, his hands in his pockets. He reached one hand out to sift through her hair. Ischizu was utterly repulsed by this, and put on a weak smile._

"_It's not so bad, is it?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow. Kaafi's jet-black hair fell loosely in front of his eyes. His thumb touched her cheek, and then pressed against her mouth. She felt him lean closer towards her, lowering his eyes substantially._

"_It won't hurt, baby. Once is enough to open you up. The second and third time around, you won't even feel it." Kaafi had gained a lazy drawl in his voice, one that he never used in front of other people, especially her brother. "In a few months, you'll be all mine." Pressing his mouth against her ear, he whispered. "You'll be great in bed."_

_She pushed him away with her hands, glaring daggers at him. "It's fine, Ischizu. Have it your way for now. In a while, you'll be begging to see me again." He pushed his hair out of his caramel eyes and strolled out of the room._

Opening her eyes, she noticed the definite, calming features of Seto's face. His hands rested on his hips, and he took a few steps backwards. "Understood. It will be pleasant to speak with him." She noticed a smirk form on his face. Ischizu didn't understand what he planned on doing, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. She wasn't sure of what would happen in the coming evening, yet she knew she wasn't going to like it.

Mokuba yawned, and their heads immediately went turned in his direction. Ischizu shrugged the strap of her dress up her shoulder, and smoothed out her dress quickly. A rush of panic flooded her veins. While she looked like she had gone through an upheaval, he looked perfectly normal. Even his clothes weren't rumpled. Crawling over to Seto's pant leg, he tugged.

"Hey, Seto. I'm a little tired. Can we go back now?" The child raised his arms in a definite yawn. Ischizu nervously swept back the hair that had come loose in front of her face. "Can you walk?" Seto asked, raising an eyebrow at the younger Kaiba. "Carry me?" Mokuba lifted up his arms, a gesture that meant he wanted to picked up. "And you wonder why I treat you as a child." Seto picked up the kid, and walked in front of the grove of trees and past a nearby path.

"Wait for Ischizu, brother." Mokuba mumbled, half-asleep. Begrudgingly, he did. Ischizu walked slowly next to him. "Do you plan on going back to Japan soon?" Ischizu asked, just to irk Seto. "I don't wanna leave. I like it here." Mokuba piped in, as he snuggled into his brother's shirt. She smiled a little, and the walk back was pleasant, save for Seto's silence. The quiet disturbed him, and he smoothed out the end of his shirt with his free hand.

"When?" He barked at her, as soon as Mokuba had gone to sleep. He was glaring daggers at her, and she felt as if he could bore a hole through her at this moment. She fumbled with her hands, not knowing what to do. The party..that party..he was going to a party. Good. She wouldn't have to see him then. "I'm not going to repeat myself." They had reached the car now, and he set Mokuba down in the back, and she felt very uncomfortable as she sat in front, next to Kaiba.

She felt her fingers shake as they reached for the seatbelt. With a gasp, her fingers raked themselves against the seat when his hand shot out to grip her wrist. He looked at her with narrow eyes. "Tell me. Now." He hissed the last statement. She felt her throat tighten, and head was in a whirl.

"Five-thirty. He will be there by five-thirty." There was some silence.

"Then I suppose we shouldn't keep him waiting."

A/N: Yay, cliffhanger! What will Seto do when he meets Isis's not so-soon-to-be husband? Jealousy flares in Kaiba's heart as he tries to keep his composure next chapter. I also visualized the ending to this story, and I just gotta say..it's a real..eye-opener! Anyhow, next chapter, Kaafi and Duke come into the picture. Mokuba won't be such a central part of the next chapter, though, so sorry to Mokuba fans. More yummy Seto / Isis, so be on the look-out for more great chapters coming on the way!


	6. Attraction

**AN:** I have to say this chapter was rushed, and it isn't all that great, but I'm working on the next chapter and it'll be _much_ better, so please, thank you all for being so very patient. Not much happens in this chapter, except Seto goes missing! What will Mokuba and Ischizu do, with only 45 minutes left until Duke's party starts? xD

**c h a p t e r e i g h t **

a t t r a c t i o n

The ride home was silent. Once in a while, while Kaiba made a left turn or was waiting at a stop light, he'd reach over to brush Ischizu's hand. He would palm it, pressing his fingers against the smooth surface on the inside of her hand. Ischizu put on a weak smile and looked ahead, feeling suddenly very sick and distraught. She'd shuffle her legs nervously, looking up at the windows and then back down in her lap, focusing and refocusing on the white of her dress.

Seto leaned back into the seat until he had finally arrived at the Ishtar residence. Mokuba in the back, had woken up, surprised to see his brother's hand travel to find Ischizu's across the car panel. Walking back to the residence, Mokuba noticed the tension strung in his brother's taut expression, and his stiff walking style. He walked stiffly, but he didn't usually do it when he wasn't at work.

Ischizu fumbled with the keys twice, and then had Seto tear the keys from her hand and open it for her. Mumbling a swift thank-you, she disappeared into the house, her light footfalls a little too quick to be walking. Mokuba did a small yawn, collapsing on the couch across from the T.V. in the living room. He'd have to start getting ready for the party at the Hotel tonight.

Ischizu raced to her room, locked the door and collapsed on the floor, her bare knees against the soft, beige carpet. Her naked legs felt cool and comfortable against the hem of the dress as she lifted it over her head. There was a swift pound on the door, and her knees buckled as she struggled to get her dress off. She couldn't reach the zipper in the back, the long, slim zipper.

This was the first time she had worn it, and she'd never learned how to get _out_ of her dress. With a stifled whimper, she painfully reached her arm around the back, missing hold of the zipper by an inch. With frustration, she lay down on the bed, and reached back. Still, her arm was too short. Running her hands through her hair, she contemplated ripping it off.

"Open the door," Seto said firmly on the other end, pressing his palm flat against the wood. "I-I am undressing right now," She mumbled on the other end. He leaned his head against the door, his patience dwindling as each second went by.

"I don't care." He icily reached for the doorknob, and began to turn it.

"You will not be able to open it anyway, it is locked." He heard the superior tone in her voice and wanted at the moment, to let it slide. "Seto, here." He heard the faint click of a lock.

"Come in. I need you to do something for me." Surprised, he entered the room. The lights were dim at the moment, and she stood at the dresser, attempting to reach something at the back of her dress.

"What?" He asked, as he approached her, noticing that her hair was getting in the way of her hands as she tried to unzip her dress.

"Can you unzip the back?" She asked innocently, perhaps too sweetly to him, and so as his hands reached for the zipper, she lifted her hair up. He studied the defined lines of her shoulder blades. They seemed like angel-wings, and he almost wanted to pluck them right off her back. He felt a strange frenzied feeling rush through him, his finger outlining the smooth ridges of her back. Seto watched her shoulder blades rise up, in tensed positions, as if crouched on cliffs.

"Did you unzip it yet?" She asked, her hands still fidgeting on top of the dresser.

"Yeah," he said, almost hoarsely, and with that he gave the zipper a quick tug downwards.

"Thank you." She murmured, motioning towards the door for him. He'd been studying her face now, the light cheekbones, accentuating the soft, elegant shape of her face.

Their eye contact was broken when the bell rung.

A smirk grew on his face, and he sprinted towards the door. _He should be here by now_. Turning the golden knob of the door, he mustered the most innocent look he could. Mokuba had tracked over to the kitchen table, licking an ice cream cone absent-mindedly as he watched his brother.

"Hey, is Ischizu here?" The man with dark locks scattered across his forehead and a gleaming brown tan leaned against the doorframe, his hands buried in his pockets. Mokuba raised an eyebrow.

"Seto, who's that?" He'd hopped off the char and stood by his brother's side, now scrutinizing the man whom he had not seen before. The man gave an odd look towards the younger Kaiba, and then back at the taller man in front of him.

"Is Ischizu here?" Kaafi had repeated the question, almost darkly. Mokuba scrunched up his eyebrows, almost as if he had a sudden dislike for the man and why he was here. Seto motioned for him to get inside.

"She's in her room." Kaiba walked over to the desolate hallway to Ischizu's room and knocked gently.

"He's here."

There were sounds of shuffling and movement, and then the door opened slightly.

"C-Come in." The stutter in her voice could have been mistaken for rushing. But it wasn't that at all. Kaiba shoved open the door, with the shorter man behind him, following close behind. Kaafi strutted his way over to Ischizu, who was busy attaching a pair of jade earrings to her ears.

"Hello, Kaafi." She didn't bother looking at him. Ischizu studied her hands, worn from washing dishes and regular household chores. With a brief sigh, and no response, she asked again.

"What do you want?" She'd turned around to face him, one hand timidly behind her, the other slightly at her side. Seto had settled himself leisurely against her bed, his long legs crossed. Kaafi awkwardly looked behind to see a stern-looking man with a mass of chocolate hair atop his head.

"I'd like to talk with my fiancée alone." Kaafi's caramel eyes became thin slits as he looked at him. Mokuba, who had been listening intently at the door, was given a glare by his older brother. He scurried off into the hallway to avoid being reprimanded.

"He is not your problem. Whatever it is you need to say, you can say it in front of him." Ischizu said, her voice on the edge of cracking. Kaiba rose from his position on the bed and slid his back against the smooth dark-wood of the dresser. Ischizu shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to another, unsure and uncertain.

"Who the hell is he?" Kaafi barked at her, pointing at the taller man.

"Seto Kaiba." Seto said icily from behind Ischizu. He had decided to law low like a snake before an attack, and then raise his head when the prey was vulnerable. At this point he decided to let the foolish man think whatever he wanted to.

"Of Kaiba Corporations?" Kaafi asked, his eyebrows up in surprise, but the malice in his facial expression was remnant. Ischizu lowered her head. She could almost feel the tension in the room strangling itself.

"Kaafi, please! Whatever it is you want-" Ischizu had begun, her fingers sweeping away the wispy curls and tucking them behind her ears. In a desperate attempt to one-up Kaiba, he took the opportunity to lean in gently towards Ischizu.

"I want you." He said, in a strange, alien tone. Ischizu lifted her head just in time to have her lips crushed against his. It was a desperate attempt to one-up Kaiba, who had narrowed his eyes to thin slits before anything had even begun. She'd brought up an arm to push away his shoulder and in the process, let out a weak cry. Ischizu could feel strong hands grasp at her waist, and a split-second later, they pulled her out of Kaafi's kiss.

"She obviously doesn't want you. Get out and save yourself the humiliation." Kaafi froze as he heard Kaiba.

"Shut up. How the hell do you know him?" He directed his attention from Kaiba to Ischizu.

"He is someone I met during-" Her explanation was cut off, apparently as both of them had a disregard for what she had to say.

"It is none of your concern." The CEO leaned across the dresser and looked upwards at Kaafi.

"Hey, Kaafi." Marik had come in at just the right time, finding the trio in the room but unaware of the tension between the three of them.

"You got a call from your secretary." He held up the phone and handed it over to Kaafi, who now seemed tenser than before. Rising up from his slouched position, he turned to face Marik.

"Actually, I'll go. I have somewhere important to be." Marik shrugged from Kaafi's response and strolled into Ischizu's room.

"You came from work already?" Ischizu took a step towards her brother to get her farther away from Kaiba, who, during the conversation, had become increasingly close to her. It wasn't that she disliked the attention; she was unaware of his intentions and what was bothering him. If anything, she wanted to understand before acting to anything. This would call for some serious investigation into Kaiba's mind, a task in which she had no interest in.

"Yep." Turning away from his sister, he glanced at Kaiba.

"Oh yeah, Kaiba – your brother's out there waiting for you. He's been bugging me to come and get you for a while now." Marik sighed gently. It was strange how easily he disappeared from the room. Outside, Kaiba found Mokuba sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest.

"Who was that man that wanted to talk to Ischizu?"

"I don't know and I don't care." Kaiba walked past into the livingroom. Sliding out his laptop from underneath the couch where he had put it, he began to type feverishly.

"Whatcha working on?" Mokuba had crawled up next to him, and noticed that Kaiba had begun to use a tablet, his pen scratching gently on the surface. "Character models for the virtual game." Kaiba said, his pen now halfway in a fluid motion across the tablet.

"Can I see?" Mokuba peered over his shoulder.

The laptop snapped shut.

"No." Kaiba rose from the table and left, carrying the laptop with him. Mokuba heard the small slam of the door leading outside the house, but he had slunk his head far into the table, resting his eyes. He could hear Marik arguing with his sister down the hallway, but he didn't bother getting up to look. He was just going to be told to get out or leave anyway.

A few hours later, Mokuba shoved a hand up to his forehead, noticing that it was slightly throbbing. The distant, carousel music echoed in his mind. He scraped the table with his fingernails, noticing that it didn't stop. In a dreamlike sequence, he remembered getting up, walking down the hallway. Everything was in a deep, sepia-tone, and he heard screaming. A fierce, sensual scream coming from Ischizu's room. He felt his fingers go up to touch the golden doorknob, and he could then _see_ inside the room by touching it.

His brother. Was there. And he remembered a dull, throbbing ache that came and went at rhythmic intervals. He could see. And he saw what he thought was not possible. Ischizu was laying there, underneath his brother. He could see his brother's lean back, naked and lacking attire, and then he remembered-

"Mokuba?" He felt warm arms lifting him up.

"Your brother is gone!" Her voice was a thick whisper. The house seemed empty and vacant, and the LED of the clock across on the table opposite from him read 6:27.

"What?" Mokuba rubbed his eyes, and lifted his small body out of the corner that he was in. His brother was missing. Glancing at the clock worriedly, he turned towards Ischizu.

"The party starts at seven. He's going to be late!" Mokuba paced back and forth, and he saw Ischizu's face alight. She crossed back into her room, carelessly tossing articles of clothing out of her closet.

Ischizu's face went alight, and she sprinted to her room. The younger Kaiba followed closely behind, and slightly confused. Rummaging through her closet, she began to toss articles of clothing out onto the bed.

"Ischizu..?" Mokuba brought his hand to his forehead, only a little frustrated.

"We will be attending the party as well. You and I will go looking for him and when we do, we're going straight to Mr. Devlin's party!" Pressing on a shimmering white satin dress, cut off on the shoulders, she posed in front of Mokuba.

"What do you think?"

"You look beautiful." He sighed gently, and then slapped his forehead. "We should hurry up!" Ushering him out of the door, Ischizu hopped into her dress, the one that she had secretly bought for special occaisions. She'd rushed out of the door, on one foot as she fixed her heel.

"We'll find your brother!"

**AN**: Crappy chapter, so sue me. Writer's block is attacking me. The next chapter will be better, promise. No more of these 'crappy' chapters since I owe my readers so much more than this. Please read and review, and thanks for being undyingly patient! Thanks to my lovely reviewers, and all my great readers!


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